


Fire Emblem Heroes: Heroes' Tales

by Edgelord_Ike



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: And so many others - Freeform, Angst, Could be fluffy and nice one story, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Humor, Then filled with angst the next, whatever i feel like writing really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-09-17 15:17:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 72
Words: 34,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edgelord_Ike/pseuds/Edgelord_Ike
Summary: The lives of the Heroes are varied and unique, and so are their interactions. A collection of Fire Emblem Heroes oneshots I've written on my tumblr, and now being moved onto here.





	1. Chapter 1

“I AM DUMA’S FAITHFUL SERVANT!” 

Soleil groaned, burying her head in her arms as the west wing’s resident psycho started blabbing again. Beside her, her friend Seigbert calmly stroked her hair in an effort to stave off yet another rant about the Summoner’s latest recruit. His ears were still ringing from last time.

The psycho in question – a red-haired woman wreathed in purple flames – was stalking around the garden outside, ranting to everyone who could hear her about the glories of Duma. Of course, the only two she ever got along with were Berkut and an insane version of Princess Hinoka’s brother Takumi. 

“This world will one day belong to him…HAHAHAHAHA!” 

“Can I kill her?” Soleil asked, her voice laced with annoyance.

“No,” Seigbert replied. “The Summoner will be very cross with you.”

Another ear-splitting laugh. “I think I can live with that,” Soleil replied, reaching for her sword.


	2. Chapter 2

For a long, long moment, none of the four dared speak. They had seen each other before, separately. Never all at once. Then one of them – the one who wielded an egg – raised her hand. 

“So...” she began slowly, as the other three turned to look at her. “what do we do?”

The one with a mask shrugged. “Not sure. Go about as we always have?”

“I don’t know if that will be possible,” the one with a lance replied. “Not like this, now that we’ve seen each other. It’s just...” she trailed off.

“Weird,” the last of the four finished for her. The other three nodded sagely. 

Chrom, entering the room, looked up and grinned as he saw familiar blue hair. “Lucina!” he exclaimed.

The four turned to look at him. “Yes Father?” they asked in unison.

The Exalt froze, studying each of them in turn. Then he turned and walked away, thoroughly disturbed. He hadn’t truly realized there were multiple versions of his daughter wandering the castle; he had just assumed she had a penchant for changing her outfit. 

The four turned back to each other as Chrom shut the door behind him. “This just got worse,” said the Lucina with a lance.

The other three nodded sagely.


	3. Chapter 3

The air was tense. Standing in the center of the castle garden were two of the Order’s strongest combatants. All around them were several heroes, gathered in anticipation of the coming conflict. Anna was going around with a bucket, calling for people to place their bets! Place their bets! 

“This is going to be so epic!” Odin whispered excitedly. The person beside him, Leo, only frowned, not exactly thrilled at his retainer’s excitement. Not far away, Titania, Soren, and Ike were watching closely, notebooks and pens in hand, to study the moves of one of the warriors. 

Then, suddenly, the two warriors raised their fists. A hush fell over the crowd. This was it! They would draw their weapons and…!

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

The crowd stared agape at that as Hector chose scissors, and was beaten by the Black Knight’s rock. The axe-wielder groaned, but shrugged and gave a good-natured laugh. The two armored warriors shook hands as the disappointed crowd dispersed. 

Even so, Titania, Soren, and Ike scribbled into their notebooks: “BK chose rock.”


	4. Chapter 4

Caeda and Marth stared at the scripts that had been placed in their hands. They were seated in the Commander’s office, with Anna across from them behind her desk. On either side of her stood Alfonse and the Summoner, looking very uncomfortable as the woman leaned in close, watching the couple study the scripts she had practically shoved in their hands.

“What do you think?” she prompted after a long moment.

“I...I’m not certain what to say,” Marth replied slowly.

“I know! It’s so good that it practically stole your words away, right?”

“’Good’ isn’t the word I’d use,” Caeda replied.

“Fantastic then?”

“...sure.”

The Summoner and Alfonse shared uneasy glances. They didn’t like where this was going.

“So how about it?” Anna asked. “Think you could play the lead roles?”

The couple glanced at each other, then back at the Commander. “The thing is, Commander...” Marth began.

“...is that I have stage fright!” Caeda finished for him. She abruptly stood up and put the script back on the Commander’s desk. “I’d never be able to perform adequately in front of the entire Order!”

“Really?” Anna replied, surprised. “I never knew that.”

“It’s not something we want to get out,” Marth hastily answered, setting his script beside Caeda’s. “I’m afraid we’ll have to decline.” Before Anna could say anything, the two quickly fled the room.

“Phooey,” Anna muttered. “Oh well. I wonder if I could get Chrom and Cordelia instead...”

The Summoner shook his head, glancing at the title of the script. He regretted ever telling Anna about a particular play from his world...

_Romeo & Juliet: A Totally NOT Get-Rich-Quick-Scheme Play by Anna!_


	5. Chapter 5

“So when you first got it, all it could do was unlock chests?”

Marth nodded solemnly. “Indeed. The greatest treasure of Archanea, and all it could do was allow us to pilfer our enemies. It was a long time before we realized its true power. Indeed, I’m a little jealous of you in that case, Chrom.”

The other man shrugged. “Honestly, it was a long time before I realized it was more than a family heirloom. Didn’t understand why Gangrel wanted it until Grima showed up.”

Marth frowned. “I’ve always wondered why it was just a shield, however. I mean, if it’s supposed to help us slay powerful dragons...why is it only a shield? And a small one, at that?”

Chrom shrugged. At that moment, Corrin walked by, Omega Yato at his hip. The chainsaw sword glowed with an otherworldly power, one that was almost familiar to the two rulers. They stopped Corrin and asked if his weapon was known by any other name in his world.

The man thought for a moment. “Well, someone once called it the ‘Fire Emblem...’”

Both Marth and Chrom looked at the Yato, then back at Corrin, then at each other. Then they sighed, turned, and walked off, leaving a bewildered Corrin.


	6. Chapter 6

“Sharena? What is that?”

“AH!” The Askr royal shrieked, then hid the chart she had in her hand behind her back as she turned to face the Summoner. “Uh, nothing, nothing.”

The Summoner narrowed his eyes as he stared at her. “Really? Then why are you hiding it?”

“Uhhhhh...it’s girly stuff! You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’d be surprised. Lemme see.” He moved to take a look behind her back.

“No!” Sharena darted away, pressing up against the wall of her room. “It’s private!”

“Sharena, as a member of the Order of Heroes, it’s my job to investigate anything suspicious. Lemme see what you have.”

As the Summoner advanced on her, Sharena did the only thing she could think of. “Alfonse!” she shrieked. The Summoner froze. 

Her brother barged into the room, saw what was going on, and made his own conclusion. “Summoner, I thought you better than that,” he snapped. 

“No! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed as Alfonse dragged him away. “I was just curious! Don’t lock me up again! Alfonse!”

As the two disappeared from her room, Sharena breathed a sigh of relief. She felt a bit bad about doing this to the Summoner, but better than the alternative. She unrolled the chart and grinned, making a few notes on it. “Oh yes. Soon my shipping chart will be complete. Hehehe...”


	7. Chapter 7

“You look...familiar,” Subaki said as he approached Cordelia. The woman in question looked up, furrowing her brow as she tried to decipher what he meant. 

“I’m afraid I’ve never seen you before in my life,” she finally said. “Are you from the World of Awakening as well?”

The man shook his head. “No, no. It’s just...your face reminds me of my daughter.” Now that he was closer, he added, “In fact, you really remind me of my daughter.”

“Ooookay,” Cordelia said, backing up. “I think I’ve heard enough. I’m going to go this way now. Please don’t follow me.” She disappeared before he could reply. 

“What did I say?” he wondered.

Not far away, Hana slapped her forehead.


	8. Chapter 8

Both Robins felt a chill go up their spines as a familiar voice called, “Oh Roooobin~”

“What do we do?” whispered the male Robin to his companion. They were in the castle gardens, discussing strategy before the war council, and there was no one else around them. No one except a certain dark mage, that is.

“I don’t know!” exclaimed female Robin. They were too far from the nearest entrance to the garden, and the voice had been too close for them to evade. She pulled out her Elwind tome. “Maybe if I cast this spell, I’ll be able to blow her away and we can escape.”

“Escape? Now why would you ever do that?” 

Both Robins jumped, turning to face the Plegian dark mage as she sauntered over to them. “Are you trying to hurt my feelings?” she cooed.

“N-no!” female Robin replied, hiding her tome behind her back. “It’s just...well...”

“We were talking about the upcoming war council, and strategies for escape on the battlefield in case we need it,” the other Robin finished.

Tharja’s lips twisted into a frown. “Always work with you. You two need to relax.”

The Robins had been inching their way away from her, hoping to find an opening to flee. “We’ll relax when this war is over,” female Robin replied.

“And who knows when that will be?” Tharja replied. “If you don’t want to relax, perhaps you could lay your head on my lap?”

Before she could reply, Robin felt a tug on her sleeve. The other Robin subtly gestured with his head down the cobblestone road; a door, previously hidden by the trees that lined either side of this path. She nodded, letting him know that she had seen it. 

“The thing is, Tharja...” Robin began. Then she whipped out her Elwind tome and shoved her back before both of them ran for the door. By the time Tharja recovered, both were long gone.

“Damn,” she muttered. There was some rustling behind her, and out emerged Camilla. 

“No luck?” she asked.

“No,” Tharja sighed. “Your advice didn’t work. Maybe if I hexed their legs frozen...”

“No worries, dear. We’ll get them next time.” The Nohrian royal winked. Tharja simply laughed in her unsettling way as the two left the garden behind, plotting their next move.


	9. Chapter 9

“Hmmmmm...”

Inigo and Laslow glanced uneasily at each other as Peri and Xander studied them with a scrutinizing gaze. Not far away stood Olivia, Chrom, and Robin, staring at them with unease.

“They look far too much alike,” Xander said. “And yet they are of entirely different worlds.”

“Something you want to admit, Laslow?” Peri crooned. “Answer quick, or I might get stabby~”

“It’s...just a crazy coincidence,” Laslow answered, taking a nervous step back.

“But you l-look so much like my son,” Olivia replied, gesturing to Inigo. “And I don’t think Inigo had a twin when all of them came back in time.”

“So tell us the truth, Laslow and Inigo. I command it as prince of Nohr.”

“Throwing your weight around?” Laslow said, incredulous. “Doesn’t sound like the Xander I know.”

“Just answer him!” Peri exclaimed, her patience wearing thin as her desire for stabbing grew.

“Uhhh...” was all Inigo could muster.


	10. Chapter 10

“What are you doing down there?”

Setsuna looked up, wondering who had come upon her this time. She had simply been minding her own business, wandering the forest outside the castle, when suddenly the ground had opened up beneath her and swallowed her whole. Now she sat at the bottom of a pit trap, something that she was quite used to at this point. 

It was the green-haired woman from the World of Blazing. Lyn, Setsuna figured her name was. “Oh, you know. Exploring the forest, falling into traps. The usual.”

“Robin and Hector dug that trap hours ago to catch wild animals,” Lyn said. “How could you fall for it? There was even a warning sign Princess Hinoka made them put up.”

The blue-haired Hoshidan shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

Lyn sighed, reaching down to pull her out. “Let’s not make it a habit.”

“No promises~” Setsuna replied as she climbed out of the pit. She dusted herself off, thanked Lyn for the help...and promptly fell into another pit trap only a few feet away from the last.

“How?” was all Lyn could choke out, gazing at the even bigger warning sign. 

“It’s a gift!” Setsuna called out in a singsong voice.


	11. Chapter 11

“You know, of all the Heroes I thought the Summoner would bring, I didn’t expect...this.”

Sharena watched as the Summoner led their new recruit into the castle, a young girl balancing an egg in a goblet. Short blonde hair and a colorful oufit, she looked a lot like...her.

“Didn’t we battle her in the last Egg Festival?” Alfonse wondered. 

“Spring Festival,” Anna corrected. “And yes we did.”

The Summoner led her over to them, and immediately the Bunny Sharena beamed as she met her alternate counterpart. “Hello again!” she exclaimed.

Sharena waved. As the two launched into an energetic conversation about...something…the Summoner quietly edged away from them. Alfonse did the same, one thought crossing his mind. I get the feeling things are going to be very...hyper around here. 

Two days later, he was proven correct when the Sharenas held a “sleepover” in their shared room. To this day, nobody understood how – or why – they, Nowi, Fae, Lucina, and others were able to set fire to half the storeroom, steal Breidablik, break into the Seal storeroom, and sneak into the Weapon Refinery to combine all of them with Armads and Ragnell into something else. 

“How would you even lift something like that?” Alfonse demanded afterward. 

The two Sharenas shared a glance then shrugged at him. Their brother groaned. 

And to think, the Summoner would say much later, it wasn’t even the worst thing they ever did.


	12. Chapter 12

Celica never liked her alternate self, and so stayed as far away from her as possible. The Summoner, at least, recognized this, and so allowed her to remain as far as possible from her possessed self during battle. Mae and Boey always did their best to shield her from the other Celica’s presence, yet sometimes she still heard the ranting sermons about Duma the other gave out in the west garden. This, apparently, grated on the nerves of the other denizens of the west wing of the castle, and already there had been an altercation between Soleil and the other Celica some weeks before.

She often journeyed with the Summoner whenever he decided to perform the ritual, pulling Heroes from across different realities in the hopes of seeing Alm again. And time after time, she was disappointed. 

It was soon after another such disappointment that she saw her other self. She was staring listlessly at the circle as the Summoner and the crowd dispersed. Mae and Boey were no where in sight, and Celica’s first instinct was to flee. Memories came unbidden to her mind, of Duma’s Tower and the deal she had so foolishly made. She shivered.

Celica lingered too long; her other self turned to face her, and for the first time both Celicas met eyes. To her surprise, there was no rage or hatred in those eyes. Only resignation. 

“You...wait for him...too?” her other self asked. 

Though Celica did not know what she meant by “him,” she could guess. She nodded. “You want to kill him?” To her surprise, there was no malice in her voice. It was a simple statement of fact.

But the other Celica shook her head. “I did once. I...I have no...desire...to do it again.”

That was not the response she was expecting. “I don’t understand.” 

But the other was already leaving. Then, at the edge of the circle, she paused. “I am Duma’s faithful servant...but I remember a village. And a boy who lived there.” Her hand fell to the sword at her hip. “And when I killed him, I remember...breaking.” She shook her head. “And I don’t know why...” Then she continued on her way; Celica could only watch, and wonder what might have been.


	13. Chapter 13

Anna nearly shrieked when she saw what the Summoner had laid out on his desk; she only restrained herself by remembering she was the Commander of the Order of Heroes, and as such could not hurt morale by shrieking.

 

_But still!_

 

Tools of all sorts were strewn about the Summoner’s wooden desk, some of which Anna surmised could only have come from other worlds. After all, she had never seen them in Askr.

 

Nobody had seen her come in; Robin, Soren, and the Summoner all glared intently at what they had done, as though it were a puzzle and _not_ a travesty that would likely get them all in trouble with the Askr royal family.

  
“What in the world are you three doing!?” Anna demanded, stomping into the room.

 

The Summoner looked up. “Ah! Anna! Good. You think you can contact one of your sisters? Ask them if they know anything about the inner workings of this?”  


“Even if they did, I wouldn’t! You’re going to get into a lot of trouble! Why would you do this?”  
  
The Summoner looked back at the dismantled casing of Breidablik, then at his two compatriots, finally at her. “We were trying to figure out why it has such a fixation on Hana...”


	14. Chapter 14

“A kinshi knight?” Hinoka tilted her head to the side. “That’s my future?”

The other Hinoka shrugged, still trying to wrap her head around being newly summoned. “It seemed like the best choice at the time.”

The first shook her head. “But that means you had to give up our pegasus! I could never do that.”

The other raised her weapon. “But we can use this!” She gave the bow – Warrior Princess (she named it herself) – an experimental twang! “We are the rulers of the sky now!”

But the first was still not convinced. “We were gods before! This just feels like compensating.”

“I stand by my decision! And you have a lot of nerve to talk about ‘compensating.’ We’re the same damn person!”

“Sisters!” Sakura exclaimed. “This bickering is p-pointless!” She grew unnerved when they both turned to face her, but she pressed on. “Who cares which one is better? B-besides...a kinshi knight is just as good as a pegasus...”

The second Hinoka put her hands on her hips, triumphant. “Hah! If Sakura thinks so, then I am superior!”

“What? N-no, that’s not what I--”

“That’s it! You and me are having a fly-off, tomorrow!”

“Good!”

“At noon!”

“Perfect!”

“Don’t be late!”

“I won’t!”

The two marched in opposite directions, leaving behind Sakura to lament how everything just went wrong. “O-oh dear...”


	15. Chapter 15

“So why are there two of you, Papa?” Kana asked as she and Corrin wandered through the halls of the castle.

Her father shrugged. “I’m not certain. Something about the abilities of the Summoner’s weapon.”

“But it’s so weird!” Kana exclaimed. “Like, yesterday I went up to give you a hug, but really it was the other you, and he got all weird about it because I don’t have the same hair color as his Kana. Whatever that means.”

Corrin sighed. Sometimes this entire thing about alternate versions was confusing. While Camilla never seemed to complain that there were three versions of her adoptive brother wandering around (and one of them a girl!), he knew that his other siblings were just as confused as his daughter. 

“Well, it could be worse. I know Exalt Chrom still hasn’t wrapped his head around there being four versions of his daughter – and none of them from his world – and I’ve heard from the Summoner that there are four other versions of Lyndis out there somewhere that he’s never been able to summon.” 

“Wooooow. Do you think there are four other versions of me out there?”

Corrin thought for a moment on the sort of chaos five Kanas could cause in Askr. “Uhhhh…maybe…?”


	16. Chapter 16

A chill traveled up her spine, a familiar presence she dreaded and feared all her life. Her hands immediately went to Falchion, ripping it free of its sheath as she whipped around to the castle entrance. There. The Summoner, newly returned from summoning.

 

And beside him…

 

_No._

 

Anna and Sharena went to greet the Summoner and their latest recruit, but Lucina held back, trembling, memories of a burned, devastated future flashing through her mind. _Oh gods, why?_

 

The newcomer studied her new surroundings with the vague disdain of one disgusted by such sights until her eyes rested on Lucina’s. Her eyes briefly widened in surprise...and then Grima smirked. “My oh my, Summoner,” Lucina heard the monster say. “You didn’t tell me you could bring back the dead. I thought I alone could do that.”  
  
The Summoner glanced at Grima, then turned to face Lucina. Understanding quickly dawned on him, and he quickly raised his arms. One held Breidablik. “Let’s just calm down. Things don’t need to be ugly.”  
  
“Ugly?” Lucina sneered. “That _monster_ killed my father! Slaughtered an entire world! If I hadn’t gone back in time...”  
  
“’Gone back in time?’” Grima laughed. “Ah, you must be from a world where I failed. How pathetic.” Grima’s face twisted into one of dark pleasure. “In my world, I ambushed all of you before you completed the rite. I ripped your friends apart, one by one, until only you were left. I still remember your screams of despair as I tore you limb from limb.” Grima spread her arms. “Perhaps an encore is in order?”  
  
“Try it,” Lucina snapped with none of her usual conviction.   


“No!” the Summoner declared. “I forbid it. There will be no fighting among ourselves. If we do that, Veronica and Surtr will have already won.” He sighed. “There are many here that are enemies, forced to fight alongside each other during this war. I will not ask you two love each other, but I _will_ ask you two to get along until we are finished here. Am I clear?”   


The two mortal enemies held their gazes for a moment more. Then Grima chuckled. “Very well, worm. I shall allow myself to obey your demands...for now.” With a final evil glance at Lucina, the woman-god departed deeper into the castle, followed closely by the Summoner. He gave the Princess an apologetic shrug as they disappeared from view.

 

Sharena approached Lucina. “Are you alright?” she asked, worried.

 

For a long moment, Lucina only stared at the place where Grima and the Summoner disappeared. Then she shook her head. “I gave everything I had to see that monster destroyed. And now it’s here again, and I have to fight _alongside_ it. No, Sharena, I’m not alright.”

 

The Askr princess reached out a reassuring hand, but Lucina brushed it off, her mind swimming with long-dormant memories as she stalked away, heading outside. It wasn’t until later she realized she never bothered to sheath her sword, or how her eyes were red with unshed tears.


	17. Chapter 17

Alfonse ran when he heard the Summoner’s yell of despair. The prince of Askr found his friend crumbled to the ground at the summoning circle, and for a long moment he feared that the Summoner was dead. Then he realized that the Summoner was... _crying_. Not far from him, Sothe was doing the same thing.

 

Anna stood nearby, looking at the miserable pair with utter disdain. “What’s going on?” Alfonse asked.

 

His Commander didn’t turn to look at him. “He’s disappointed he hasn’t summoned a certain Hero.”  


“Who?” He had never seen the Summoner react this way...at least, not since he failed to summon any “Summer Heroes” a while back, whatever that meant.

 

“ _Micaiah_!” the Summoner screamed in reply, clutching his head and folding in on himself.

 

“...That’s it?” Alfonse replied.

 

“I’m done here, you take care of his drama this time.” Anna turned and began walking to the castle.


	18. Chapter 18

“What do you call this again?” Catria asked, staring at the setup around them.

 

The Summoner grinned from behind his wooden screen. “Dungeons and Dragons,” he answered before resuming whatever work he was doing behind the screen.

 

“I...I’m sorry, Summoner, but I’m not sure what’s so great about this,” Alfonse said, holding up his sheet of parchment. “Why do I have to play a...pretend character? We should be planning our next offensive, not playing childish games.”  
  
“Oh lighten up, Alfonse!” Sharena replied. “Not everything has to be about work!”

 

“It should when we’re in the middle of a war,” Alfonse shot back. “Who knows what Surtr and Veronica are planning next? We should be researching a way to stop them, not…this.”  
  
The Summoner spread his hands. “Come now, Alfonse. That is precisely the reason why we should play this. Who knows when next we can relax? The coming of Surtr adds an unknown element to the war. We should take this opportunity before it’s too late. Besides,” he added quietly, “I haven’t had a chance to play this since...since I was pulled here.”  
  
Alfonse fell silent at that. “Very well,” he finally said. “What do we do?”  
  
The Summoner looked to his five players: Alfonse, Sharena, Fjorm, Robin, and Catria (the last only coming because of a failed coin toss with Anna). “Frankly, that’s up to you. Or more specifically, your characters. See, this game encourages creative thinking. I’m only here to provide the scenario.”  
  
“And the dice?” Robin asked.

 

“To determine success or failure. Without them, the game would get out of control fairly quickly. And since I have no idea who to commission to make us the other sorts of dice we need, I’ve just collected every single six-sided one I could find in the castle.” He shrugged. “I’ve also had to fudge some of the rules since I don’t have ready access to a rulebook.”  
  
“Do we fight...dragons?” Catria asked. “I’ve had my fill of them back in my world.”  
  
“We could. Or we could fight something else.” The Summoner grinned. “Who knows what I have cooked up? Except for me, of course.”  
  
Fjorm had not spoken since she had taken her seat. In truth, she was not sure she would like this game. She agreed with Alfonse, there was no time to be playing with a monster like Surtr on the loose. But she also agreed they might not have time to be playing these games soon, once they began the march to the portal to Nifl. Her character was a simple peasant woman on a quest to avenge her lost brother.

 

Almost like her.

 

“So shall we begin?” the Summoner asked, the sound of rustling parchment finally ending behind his screen.

 

The five nodded, Alfonse and Fjorm last.

 

“Good. So you five are seated at a tavern in the village of Woodkeep...”  


When they finished six exciting hours later, they each had to admit, each had had a lot more fun than they had thought.

 


	19. Chapter 19

“Is this a normal occurance?” Fjorm asked, standing beside Sharena as they watched the Summoner scream not far away.

 

“More than you realize,” the Askran princess sighed. “I don’t understand why he’s like this, though. I mean we have another Legendary Hero.” She gestured vaguely at Ephraim, who stood bewildered as the Summoner continued acting like a pathetic child. Likely as not, he already wanted to go home if _this_ was the one who had pulled him here. “But I guess he really had his heart set on this Micaiah.”  


“What difference does one mage make in the grand scheme of things?” Fjorm asked.

 

Sothe clenched his fist, suddenly appearing nearby. “You don’t know the power of the Silver-Haired Maiden. She could make all the difference in this conflict.”

  
  
“You sound...” Sharena fished for a word that wouldn’t offend him, “ _fixated_ on her. Did you hype her up to the Summoner?” She dreaded the answer.

  
  
“I might’ve mentioned her once or twice...” Sothe replied. “I only told him that she’ll be the only mage anyone will ever need in this conflict.”

  
  
Sharena sighed, knowing how easily duped the Summoner could be when it concerned powerful ‘blue’ mages. Ephraim approached them, guiding his horse by the reigns. “Excuse me, but could I trouble anyone for a ride home? I think there’s been a mistake.”

 

As Sothe moved to share his grief with the Summoner and Sharena groaned in annoyance, Fjorm could only blink. What in the world had she gotten herself involved with?

 


	20. Chapter 20

If Alfonse was honest, he felt somewhat bad about sending Kaze after Anna, to find out where she went every Saturday. Both she and the Summoner left for hours at a time, though the Summoner at least had an alibi. At least, he did according to Soleil. But Alfonse was getting suspicious of the fact that Soleil claimed the two had tea every Saturday afternoon, yet her tea kettle had never moved an inch from its spot on the counter ever since she had gotten it some weeks ago.

 

So when Kaze reported seeing Anna and the Summoner heading into an enemy encampment, Alfonse felt his heart shatter. The Commander and the Summoner, traitors? He had to find out for himself.

 

Slipping into a disguise stolen from a captured Emblian soldier, Alfonse followed Kaze to the encampment in question. Fortunately it was only a minor outpost, likely an outlier from the main force that monitored the border with Askr. The Hoshidan ninja led Alfonse past the guards and into the heart of the camp, where he had seen the two traitors establish themselves.

 

“I don’t know what we’ll find when we get there,” Alfonse whispered to Kaze. “If things are as bad as I fear, I want you to steal Breidablik from the Summoner and get back to the castle as fast as you can. Have Sharena send a strike force.”  
  
“What about you?” Kaze asked, glancing back at him for a moment.   
  
“I...I will deal with them myself.”

 

As they drew closer to the center of the camp, Alfonse noticed that a crowd was forming. Many of the soldiers were jostling one another, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was going on. Kaze, with the honed skills of a ninja, was able to find an optimal route through the crowd and toward the center for the pair. Most didn’t spare them a second glance, which suited Alfonse just fine. His armor didn’t fit well, and all it would take was a sharp pair of eyes to notice how poor his disguise was.

 

When they finally reached the center of the camp, Alfonse and Kaze froze in their tracks. Whatever they were expecting, it wasn’t…this.

 

“COME ON, COME ON! DON’T BE SHY!” The Commander was bellowing into a megaphone, gesturing wildly for everyone to approach. She wasn’t in her typical armor, however, instead dressed in a more casual red outfit. And...and…

 

“Where did she get the mustache?” Alfonse wondered. Kaze only shrugged.

 

She was standing behind a wooden stall, and behind her were dozens of wooden crates filled to the brim with…

  
“ _Seals_!?” Alfonse exclaimed.

 

But Kaze shook his head. “No, Your Highness. Look closely. Those are fakes.”  
  
Alfonse narrowed his eyes, peering closely at the contents of the crates. Finally...yes, he saw what the ninja meant. They weren’t real Seals at all. Alfonse frowned. “Let’s go have a talk with her.” The duo started marching up toward the wooden stand, pushing past the crowd that continued to grow around the stall. There were angry curses and accusations of line cutters, but a glare from Kaze shut them up. None of them were dumb enough to argue with a Hero, even if they weren’t sure whose side he was on.

 

Anna looked up as they approached, initially all smiles...until she recognized Kaze. “AH!” she shrieked. “Er, I mean, ‘ello! I am ze merchant of this stand! How may zis girl be of assistance?”  
  
“Give up the charade, Commander,” Alfonse snapped, raising his helmet just enough so she could see his face. “Whatever you’re doing here, it stops. _Now_.”  
  
“I...er...I have no idea what you are talking about!” She gave a fake laugh. “I am simple merchant girl, nobody of importance! Certainly no ‘Commander,’ haha!”  


“Either you come with me _now_ , Commander, or I’ll come back with Zelgius and Lucina and arrest you myself. Let’s go.”  
  
Anna paled. “Aflonse, _please_ ,” she hissed. “I’m really making a profit from these dunderheads.”  


Alfonse was unmoved. “I don’t care. Shut it down. It’s not right to con others out of their money, even if they are our enemies. And where’s the Summoner?”  


“Uh, I have no idea what you are talking of the about! I don’t know zis Summoner!”  
  
Alfonse’s flat stare told her how much her “accent” wasn’t fooling him or Kaze. “Kaze, find him.” The ninja nodded and vanished. “Is he in on this too?”  
  
Anna slumped, beaten, her fake mustache drooping. “It was his idea...” she muttered. To the Emblian soldiers, she called, “I am making the sorry, everyone! I am closing the store early today!” Groans sounded all around, the crowd dispersing rapidly. Anna made a sad noise at the vanishing customers, then glared at Alfonse as she began packing up. Alfonse moved to help her, and by the time Kaze reappeared with the Summoner in tow, they had almost finished moving everything onto the horse and cart they had used to transport the items in the first place.

  
The Summoner wasn’t wearing his cloak, but he still wore the rest of his outfit. He immediately raised his arms in surrender. “Alfonse, I swear, this was all Anna’s idea.”

  
  
“We’ll straighten this out at the castle,” Aflonse replied, dragging his hand across his face. “This whole thing has been a pain in the rear. Sharena and I will decide on a proper punishment later. For right now, when we get back to the castle, you both are confined to quarters.”

 

“We’re _grounded_!?” Anna exclaimed.   


Alfonse didn’t reply, only leaping into the cart with Kaze as she and the Summoner loaded the last of the items. When Alfonse and Kaze weren’t listening, the Summoner leaned in close to Anna and whispered, “At least they haven’t found out about the circus performances.”


	21. Chapter 21

Laegjarn was chained in a tent, her hands and feet bound, watched over by the armored warrior Fjorm called “Effie.” The other woman hadn’t said a word since she had been stationed here, simply eating an enormous meal as she kept an eye on the Muspell general. That suited Laegjarn just fine; she had no intention of speaking to her.

 

She still could not believe her predicament; four days ago, she had been cornered and trapped, the Askran forces surrounding and defeating her. She was now their prisoner, for however long the Askran royals deemed it so. Laegjarn was not so foolish that she believed it was out of generosity, despite Fjorm’s claims to the contrary; they wanted something from her, and a soon as they had it she would die. It was as simple as that; she was an enemy general, and it was the most logical conclusion to her captivity.

 

_Unless I can find a way to escape, that is._ But Laegjarn knew it would not be tonight. Effie was too far for her to attack, and she could not make it far with her bonds. Beyond the tent she could hear the faint murmur of chatter as the Askran army and the Heroes settled down for the night, as food was served and tents erected. Part of her wondered where her sister had escaped to, if she had rejoined their father or fled back to Muspell. Possibly the latter; Laegjarn knew Surtr would not be so welcoming if Laevatein returned to him with her tail between her legs. He did not approve of failure; that had been beaten into them during their childhood.

 

There was a stir at the front tent flap, and then a surprise entered the tent; the person the Order called the Summoner appeared, carefully balancing three bowls of stew in his arms. He passed one over to Effie, who devoured it eagerly, before he approached Laegjarn.

 

The Muspell general was immediately on her guard. She had not seen the Summoner but in passing ever since her capture, and some of her guards whispered that he hated her for some reason. She did not put much stock in rumor, but the Summoner’s body language seemed rather stiff. “What do you want?” she snapped, tensing in her chains.

 

The Summoner paused, gazing at her evenly from within his hood. Then he offered one of the bowls of stew to her, just within her restrained reach, and Laegjarn hesitantly took it. It smelled decent enough, which was a surprise for an army on the march. Truly, this was a strange sort of military. As she spooned some into her mouth, she watched as the Summoner settled cross-legged across from her. He did not eat, only stirring the stew idly with his spoon. For a long time, the only noise was Effie’s loud slurping and Laegjarn’s careful eating.

 

At last, the Summoner broke the silence. “Fjorm suggested this.”

 

Laegjarn gazed at him. “Why?” she asked simply. Was this some ploy of the princess’, to get her to spill some secret about her father? It would not work.

 

The other shrugged. “She says I’m holding onto a lot of anger,” he said, his voice a dead monotone. “Sharena and Alfonse agree. They say that this conflict has taken its toll on me. They say talking with the enemy may help.”  
  
“I do not follow,” Laegjarn replied, eyes narrowing. “You must have other Emblian and Muspell prisoners.”

 

“They’re only soldiers. They’re simply following orders.” He pointed his spoon at her. “You are the one giving the orders.”  


“Yes,” Laegjarn replied. “If you are to accuse me of harming any of Nifl’s citizens, I assure you I did no such thing. I did everything in my power to protect them from my father’s sadism after we conquered the kingdom.”  


“ _Sadism_ ,” the Summoner spat, and Laegjarn was astonished by the venom she heard in the man’s voice. Even Effie was surprised as she slowed her eating. “That word doesn’t even begin to describe the dastard. Was it only _sadism_ when he steamrolled over Askr’s outer perimeter? Was it only _sadism_ when he burned every one of those soldiers alive? Was it only _sadism_ when he killed everyone _I_ was supposed to protect? Everyone I spent over a _year_ trying to keep safe when Emblia fought us?” He stood, dropping his bowl onto the ground as he paced around the tent. “I had never fought a war in my world. I had no reason to. And yet I was pulled here, to be a part of a conflict, a world, I never even knew _existed_. When I first got here, I thought it was just a game. I had seen plenty of works about things like this. I’d fight the villains for a while, win, and go home.” He rounded on her, his eyes wide with anger and pain. “A month into my being here, I was leading a team of soldiers to check on a supply line. Four Heroes, with a regiment of Askran fliers to screen our approach.” He shook his head. “I was careless. I should’ve sent scouts, should’ve paid more attention. We were ambushed by Emblian archers. They were no match for the Heroes, but the fliers...they never stood a chance. All of them, dead, right before me. If I had been more attentive, more careful, I could’ve saved them. They’d still be alive. They didn’t deserve to die over a _damned scouting run!_ ”He kicked the bowl away, and only Laegjarn’s reflexes saved her from being hit in the head by the object. She looked back at the man, bracing herself. If he attacked…

 

But he wasn’t even looking at her, or Effie, or anything. “It was my fault. That’s why I had the Order improve our security, our perimeter defenses. I wanted to save as many people as I could from Veronica’s wrath. Then your damned father with his _sadism_ steamrolled right over them and slaughtered all of them. Burned them alive. _For sport_.” He jabbed a finger in her face. “How do I know the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, _General_? How do I know that you won’t end up burning us just like your _father_?”

 

Laegjarn’s face twisted into one of rage. “What do you know, _Summoner_?” she snarled. “Do you have any idea what it was like growing up with a father like that? What it was like, protecting my sister from Surtr’s wrath whenever she would mess up? What is was like, being tossed into his flames just to make sure I was truly his daughter? Muspell is a realm where only the strongest survive. I had to become strong, to make sure Laevatein was safe, to make sure that I could direct his wrath a little further from our people and little closer to our enemies? And I have to live with the fear that every little compromise, every bad decision I make, pushes me a little closer into turning out just like him. I look up to my father has model of what I _don’t_ want to become. Accuse me if you want, but only of crimes I have had a hand in. Not of whatever my father has done.”  
  
The two glared at each other for a long moment, the air tense with emotion, waiting for one of them to break. Effie was frozen in her spot, eyes darting between the two.

 

The moment was broken when the tent flaps opened and Fjorm stepped in. “I heard shouting, and I...came to...check...” The princess of Nifl paused, studying what had happened. “Is everything alright?” she finally asked.

 

“Yes,” the Summoner said, his voice now incredibly tired. He collected the bowls from Laegjarn and Effie, including the one he had kicked, and stalked out of the tent. Fjorm tried to stop him, but he shrugged her off and disappeared into the night. She watched him for a moment, then turned to look at Laegjarn. “What happened?”  
  
For a moment, the Muspell general didn’t answer. Then she only answered with one word. “War.”


	22. Chapter 22

“Is there...anything left of me in there, you think?”

 

Hinoka only shrugged. “Couldn’t tell ya, Takumi. He’s just...really creepy.”

  
  
The two were staring at an alternate version of Takumi, this one from a world where Nohr won the war and Takumi wound up possessed by an angry dragon god called Anankos. Both of them had come from a world where Corrin had united Nohr and Hoshido against the forces of Valla, and this Takumi’s condition was very familiar.

 

“Why does the Summoner even keep... _it_ around?”

  
  
“Probably for the same reason he keeps the evil Celica around. He’s strong.”

 

Takumi grimaced. “I’m stronger.”  


 

“Yup,” Hinoka agreed. “But regardless, anyone that can take a few more soldiers on him and away from us is fine in my book.”

 

“Yeah...” Takumi replied, staring at him. Then he pulled out his Fujin Yumi. “I’m going to shoot him.”

  
  
“Okay. Wait, what?”


	23. Chapter 23

“This is bad. Really bad.”

 

The other Robin nodded. “One was enough. But two? We’re doomed, now.”  


“There _are_ four Lucinas. Perhaps we could use them as bodyguards.”

  
  
“Three Lucinas and a ‘Marth.’” Robin used air quotes on the last name. “She insists she isn’t a Lucina.”

 

The first chuckled. “If she says so.” Then he froze.

 

The other Robin did as well. But surely, they had imagined it…  


 

No. Two sets of familiar chuckles, further down the hall. “Oh, Robin~” one sang.

 

“Move.” The two Robins sprinted in the opposite direction, only to run into one of their nemeses. Tharja giggled, blocking their path in her black bridal gown. “Where are you two going?” she asked, smiling.

 

“Yes indeed,” cooed a voice behind them, and the two Robins whipped around to see the original Tharja behind them.

  
  
They were trapped. _Naga, help us,_ they both thought desperately as the two dark mages closed in.


	24. Chapter 24

The Summoner laced his fingers together, leaning his chin on top of them as he studied the three before him. His eyes were distant, lost heavily in thought. Anna shuffled her feet. Sharena tapped a pencil against her notepad, bored. Alfonse wrote on his own notepad, continuously crossing out names and replacing them.

 

At last, after a long moment, the Summoner spoke. “There’s no easy way to resolve this.”

 

“No there isn’t,” Alfonse agreed. “Not without controlling which Heroes Breidablik can summon.”  
  
The Summoner slid a hand over his face. “The best we have are Soleil, Nowi, and Hector. The others aren’t exactly strong enough to stand against the forces arrayed in the Arena.”  
  
“And even then,” Anna said, “those three are getting their asses kicked.”  


Defeat after defeat. There was a reason the Summoner rarely competed in the strange extradimensional location known as the Arena, where Summoners from other worlds pitted teams of four Heroes against each other. The Summoner lowered his head onto the desk. “There’s just no way those three can stand against the bastards of Horse Emblem.”  
  
“You keep saying that,” Sharena said. “I don’t think there are a lot of horses in the Arena.”  
  
“You wouldn’t know. You don’t watch the matches that often,” Alfonse groaned. “Anna, you think your sisters can get us a discount on summoning orbs?”  
  
Anna stared at him for a moment, then laughed long and hard in the prince’s face. “Discount isn’t really in our vocabulary, Alfonse.”  


“Then what alternative do we have?” the prince of Askr demanded.

 

The Summoner slumped his shoulders. “Not compete. Let our universe fade into the aether until the next Grand Conquest nonsense.”  


“Come on, Summoner!” Sharena exclaimed. “You’ve gotta have more faith in our troops than that!”  


“I have complete faith in the Heroes to see us through this war,” the Summoner replied. “I don’t, however, have faith in their ability to win against other Summoners. I mean, have you _seen_ our track record in the Grand Hero Battles?”  


Sharena slumped her shoulders. “I guess...”

  
  
There was silence for a moment. Then Anna spoke. “We’re bad at this.”  


Nobody could deny that.


	25. Chapter 25

“Are you telling me,” the Summoner said, his fingers laced together in front of his face as he sat at his desk, his hood low over his head, “that you had nothing to do with this?”  


Soleil fidgeted in her seat, looking desperately at anything besides what laid between them. “Of course not, Summoner. I would never do such a thing.”  


The Summoner grunted. Flanking him at either side were Black Knight and Hector, impassive as the Summoner lifted a journal from his desk and opened it up. “Are you _absolutely_ positive you didn’t write this?”

  
  
Soleil shook her head. She had never been dumb enough to write her name in her journal, and a completely different form of handwriting, so there was absolutely nothing that could paint her as the journal’s owner. “I’m 100% positive, Summoner.”

  
  
“Well somebody did,” the Summoner responded, his voice growing irritated. “And that someone left it sitting in the open, where the Kanas and Fae could find it. Open it. _Read it._ Those three are now being watched over by our healers, and I’m stuck trying to find the sick, twisted bastard that wrote it.” He brandished it at her. “And it was found outside your room.”

 

“But it’s not mine!” Soleil insisted.

 

The door creaked open, and everyone looked up to see Celica enter the room. She seemed about to speak, but froze when she saw the office’s occupants and the apparent tension in the chamber. “Oh, sorry. I’ll be leaving.”

  
  
“No, Celica, stay,” the Summoner ordered. “What do you need, that you don’t even knock?”

 

  
“I’m sorry, Summoner, but I’m afraid I lost something earlier and I haven’t been able to find it.”

  
  
The Summoner sighed. “What was it?” Stuff often turned up missing in the castle, and usually wound up reappearing in the possession of one of the resident thieves.

  
  
“A journal that belongs to a friend of mine. I’m holding onto it until she’s either summoned or I return home.”

  
  
The Summoner’s gaze immediately snapped up to her. Then he held up the journal in his hand. “Is this it?”

  
  
Celica beamed. “Yes, that’s it, Summoner! Thank you.”

  
  
“This friend,” the Summoner said as he handed it to her. “Who is it?”

  
  
“Her name’s Delthea,” Celica replied. “I had just picked it up off the ground after she dropped it when you pulled me into this world. I haven’t read it myself, but I misplaced it earlier.”

  
  
The Summoner groaned. “Just keep a better eye on it from now on,” he told her. Celica nodded and retreated from the room. With a wave of his hand, he also dismissed Soleil and the two armored knights.

 

Soleil was glad to be gone. She wondered what this ‘Delthea’ was like. Must be fairly interesting, to write such _lewd_ fanfiction. Nina would be jealous. 


	26. Chapter 26

 

Alfonse found Gunnthra seated on a snowy bank, overlooking a vast, frozen forest. They would be resuming their march to Muspell soon, and the Summoner had realized that the eldest princess of Nifl was missing, and sent both him and Sharena to find her before they set off.

 

_Or rather, the eldest princess of an_ alternate _Nifl,_ Alfonse reminded himself. She spoke little of her old world, but Gunnthra had let them know that she no longer had a world to go back to. “Surtr took it,” was all she said.

 

She did not look up as Alfonse approached, the snow cracking beneath his boots. Her steed was grazing not far away, shoving aside the snow with his snout. Alfonse stood next to her and told her, “We’re getting ready to depart, Your Highness. The Summoner asked me to look for you.”  
  
“Did he? How kind of him.” Gunnthra stood and brushed snow off her dress. “Best not to keep him waiting, then.” She whistled, and her horse came trotting over. “And do not call me ‘Your Highness,’ Prince Alfonse. I am no royal here.”

 

“What were you doing here?” Alfonse asked as Gunnthra mounted the saddle.

 

“Just...thinking.” Gunnthra gestured to the woods. “This is a decent place to find frostflowers, if you know where to look.”

 

“Is it?” Alfonse turned to look at the forest, but saw no sign of the ice blue flowers. Perhaps further within. “Did you come here often?” Then he silently cursed himself. “I mean, the alternate one.” Idiot. “The one that...” He helplessly trailed off, fearing the princess would be cross with him for bringing up her old world.

 

But Gunnthra only chuckled, taking the reigns. “Sometimes,” she replied. “We did not come here often, since it is so close to Muspell. Our parents feared the Fire Raiders would kidnap my sisters and I if we did.”  


“Fire Raiders?” Alfonse asked.

 

“Ah. I forget you are not of Nifl. Forgive me, Your Highness.”

 

“Alfonse’ is fine, Prin—Gunnthra.”

 

Gunnthra nodded, as though not really hearing him. “The Fire Raiders were a squadron of Muspell soldiers that crossed our border and kidnapped our people, burning everything in their path. I do not know if they existed in this world, but considering how intact this forest is, I would assume not.”  
  
“Fjorm would know,” Alfonse replied, making a mental note to ask her later.

 

Gunnthra stiffened in the saddle. “Perhaps,” she said slowly. She wheeled the horse around in the direction of the encampment and extended a hand toward Alfonse. “Come. Let’s head back, before the Summoner loses his mind with impatience.”

  
  
Alfonse felt his face heat up. “I...I can walk.”

  
  
Gunnthra laughed. “You can. But it would be faster to ride with me. Come along; neither I nor my horse bite.”

  
  
Alfonse hesitated a moment longer, then allowed himself to be pulled onto the horse. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she set the horse into a gallop. He could only imagine the faces of the Heroes and, worst of all, his sister when they saw him like this.

 

His face heated up all the more.


	27. Chapter 27

“ _My_ dad can turn into a dragon and beat up bad guys!” Kana declared proudly, grinning at Morgan.

 

“My dad can turn into a dragon too,” Morgan replied. “A dark, evil dragon that will devour your dad.”  
  
“No way that can happen!” Kana exclaimed. “He has the Yato and me to protect him!”

 

“You,” Morgan replied flatly, looking at her with disinterest. “You think you can beat the Fell Dragon just because you’re a manakete.”  
  
“Dad and I beat Anankos!” Kana said.   
  
“Yes, the dragon with a ball for a mouth.” Morgan chuckled behind her hand. “Grima would crush him like an insect.” It somewhat surprised Morgan that she was defending the dragon god that destroyed her future, but, well, the female version the Summoner had pulled some time ago was really cool. You know, when she wasn’t being insulting.

 

“Nu-uh!”

 

“Yeah!”  


“No!”  
  
“Yes!”

 

“No!”  


“Ye--”  


“Stop it already,” Lon’qu flatly ordered, pushing the door open. “My room is right next to yours, and I will not be kept up by whatever nonsense argument you two are having. Quiet down or I’ll get your fathers.”  
  
Morgan and Kana nodded, the latter giving one last glare at Morgan as she left the room behind Lon’qu. Morgan sighed, sitting down on her bed. _I knew the journal Celica keeps wouldn’t be enough. I’ll have to devise a new strategy…_

 


	28. Chapter 28

“I just don’t understand it, Alfonse,” the Summoner said, putting down a book. 

“What don’t you understand, Summoner?” the prince of Askr replied, not bothering to look up from his own tome. The two were seated in the library, reading over numerous books about the various Worlds connected to Zenith. 

“Why are all the worlds obsessed with dragons?” the Summoner answered. 

“What do you mean?”

The Summoner pulled a piece of parchment from within his robes and unfolded it. “Marth’s world. Their main threat was the Earth Dragon Medeus. Alm’s world. Their threat was the mad Divine Dragon Duma. Seliph’s world. Their threat was a cult surrounding the long-dead Earth Dragon Loptuos. Roy’s world, the dragon Ideen. Lyn’s world...”

“Alright, I get it,” Alfonse said, setting down his book. “And I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for you. Dragons just seem to be integral to the lore of these worlds.”

“Okay,” the Summoner replied, nodding. “But...if things go in Zenith as they have in other worlds….won’t that mean we’ll have to fight a deranged or evil dragon god?”

Alfonse opened his mouth to reply, to tell the Summoner he was being ridiculous...but found instead that he couldn’t exactly say no. “I...” his words died in his throat. He only shrugged. 

The Summoner sighed. “I’ll go get a dragon-slaying team ready…”


	29. Chapter 29

It was many hours before the Summoner called for a stop.

 

The warriors of the Order gratefully obeyed, settling on the ground as their leaders immediately gathered a good distance away. The events of the Muspell castle continued to replay in their minds, and all were exhausted.

 

“It didn’t work,” Fjorm said dejectedly. “Gunnthra’s sacrifice...our losses...they meant nothing in the end. Surtr is unstoppable.”  
  
Alfonse and Sharena didn’t have the heart to contradict her. After all, they had seen him struck down, fall, _die_ , and only get back up. How could they beat someone who wouldn’t _stay dead_?   
  
“Sis,” Ylgr murmured, clutching her sister’s hand. But Fjorm’s grip was slack, not bothering to return it. She only gazed at the ground, defeat in her gaze. It was mirrored in the eyes of Anna, Alfonse, and Sharena. Only the Summoner had his back turned to the others.

 

“No.”  
  
A small word, simple, but it still drew everyone’s attention to their cloak-clad Summoner. He turned back to face them, and the five were immediately struck by the burning determination in his gaze, alight like the fires of Muspell.   
  
“It’s not over,” he declared, facing them fully. “Not unless we give up.”  
  
“What else can we do?” Anna asked. “We threw everything we had at him, and it just...wasn’t enough.”  
  
“I don’t know yet,” the Summoner replied. “But I refuse to back down. If we simply give up and roll over, Surtr will burn us alive. So I refuse to give up. And I refuse to let any of you do the same.” He gestured back the way they had come. “That dastard isn’t immortal,” he continued. “We _killed him. We struck him down_. We dispelled his flames and let him experience our full power, and he proved to be no match for it.”  


“We can’t risk our lives without some sort of plan,” Alfonse pointed out.

 

“You’re right. We need a plan,” the Summoner nodded. “But while I don’t know about the rest of you, I refuse to let some overcooked orange beat us down after everything we’ve been through.”  
  
Anna nodded, her eyes filled with the same determination. “We will triumph, somehow,” she agreed.

 

“But what can we do?” Fjorm asked.

 

“We need to destroy the source of his power, whatever that is,” the Summoner answered. “Once we find that out, we can destroy him.” His gaze slid from the Princess of Nifl to the little girl next to him. “And I believe we have someone in our midst who can tell us just that.”

 


	30. Chapter 30

“Summoner!” he heard Sharena shout. “I’ve found something you might like!”  
  
He sighed. Today had been a slow day; no new summons, no new battles, truly not much of anything. He had his weekly meeting with Robin and Soren on new tactics, but that was all. And yet Sharena was running toward him, waving a book around.

  
“What is it?” the Summoner asked when Sharena reached him, putting on as bright a smile as he could.

 

“I was poking around the library, when I found this book about a World we’ve never been to before. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it!”

 

That piqued his interest. “Let me see,” he said, reaching for the book. Sharena handed it over gladly, and the Summoner brushed some dust over the title.

 

_The History of the World of Three Houses_.

 

A grin spread across the Summoner’s face, wide and infectious. “Sharena,” he said. “I think you’ve made me one very happy Summoner.”


	31. Chapter 31

Gunnthra was very pleased with the gift the Summoner had given her. The mask he had handed to her as he passed out the new “accessories” covered her eyes, so no one was certain if she was asleep or awake when they spoke to her. It had allowed her to catch up on some sleep she had missed back in her original world, when she had been on the run from Surtr’s legions as they burned Nifl, Askr, and Emblia.

 

The mask, however, seemed to prompt strange reactions from Prince Alfonse, who started whenever he saw it. Sharena and the Summoner were reluctant to explain why, saying it was Alfonse’s story to tell, not theirs. Gunnthra resolved to wait until Alfonse was ready to talk, and not before.

 

The mask also gave her an advantage that did not become apparent until a week later. As Gunnthra moved about the camp, she ran into Fjorm, walking in the opposite direction. The two sisters froze when they saw each other, Fjorm’s face frozen into an expression of grief and hope. Ever since her summon, the two had avoided each other and all the emotions they represented. After all, each were dead in the other’s world.

 

“Sister…?” Fjorm croaked.

 

“Sister?” Gunnthra laughed, recalling a story the Summoner had once told her about a market run by him and Commander Anna. “I am not this sister you are doing the referring to. Nope nope, I am but humble mage.”

 

Fjorm’s expression turned deadpan. “What?”  
  
Gunnthra briefly patted Fjorm’s head and hurried off, saying, “Yes yes, I am humble mage, not at all related to little blue girl! Goodbye!”

 

When Gunnthra finally reached the safety of her own tent, that is when she gave herself permission to cry.

 


	32. Chapter 32

There was absolute glee in the Summoner’s demeanor during dinner, a grin spread across his face. Small wonder, the Order knew; most recently he had been able to win very difficult battles against two of Emblia’s Grand Heroes, Ursula and Michalis. The two new recruits in question were seated at the far end of the table, sulking at the Summoner’s victory. Five extra chairs were set at the head of the table, near the Askr royals and the Summoner. 

“They kept coming at me, and I kept shoving them back!” Hector boasted. “None of them could penetrate my armor!”

“Only because Priscilla was there to heal you,” Soleil retorted. “You kept getting your butt whooped before the Summoner swapped me out for her!”

The healer she mentioned blushed, faintly pleased with the praise. After the original team of Hector, Soleil, Felicia, and Nowi kept getting defeated by Michalis , the Summoner had the bright idea to replace the sword-user with a healer, realizing that the bulk of the wyvern-rider’s forces seemed to focus on the armored knight. So long as Hector was continually healed, He’d be able to survive and take them all out while Nowi and Felicia dealt with Michalis. 

“At least we really didn’t have to worry about healing against Ursula,” Felicia said.

The other battle had been a close thing. The Summoner had Felicia and Nowi draw them in, relying on their resistance to magic to see them through while Soleil and Hector dealt with the rest. It had come as a surprise to the Summoner that it only took two tries to win the day. 

“You five deserve the highest accommodations,” the Summoner said, grin still plastered on. “Eat as much as you like, because we won!” 

Many of the Heroes in the dining hall let out a roar as they applauded the five. Towards the back, however, Michalis and Ursula sulked. “How could they have ever beaten us?” Ursula muttered.

“Luck,” Michalis replied. “Sheer dumb luck.” But part of him couldn’t help but lighten up, just a little, when he saw his little sister Maria sitting with the other healers. Though he had yet to try and approach her – he did, after all, lock her away to keep Minerva on a leash – he was glad his sister had been able to form friendships, even in this strange new world. “But we are bound by contract to serve the Order now.”

Ursula let out a snort of derision. “Had we been at our full power, the Summoner would not have beaten us.”

“I agree,” Michalis replied. “But we are bound.”

“For now,” Ursula replied, her eyes darting around the hall, sizing up each individual Hero. “For now.”


	33. Chapter 33

“What is your problem?”  
  
Lon’qu paused in his training, glancing over to his right to see the green-haired woman from the plains approaching him. _Lyn_ , he recalled. Gritting his teeth, he sheathed his sword and stepped back from her. “Stay away,” he ordered.

 

But Lyn apparently had no intention of doing so. “You frightened Florina. I will not.” She walked right up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “I ask again: what is your problem?”  
  
Lon’qu froze up, his muscles refusing to cooperate. “I...do not know what you mean.”  
  
“Earlier today, in the mess hall during breakfast,” Lyn answered. “Florina was getting herself some food when you threw a heavy bag of metal at her.”  
  
“It was not a heavy bag of metal,” Lon’qu snapped. “She had dropped her coin purse. I was simply returning it to her.”  
  
“By _throwing it_!?”

  
“Yes,” Lon’qu replied. “I did not aim for her head. She simply moved at the wrong moment.”  
  
“But _throwing it_? Why not simply hand it to her like a normal person?”  
  
“I couldn’t stand being near her,” Lon’qu answered. The next moment, he was on the ground, nursing his jaw as Lyn glared at him with the promise of death in her eyes.

  
“Why? Do you not like how she looks? How she smells? Just what is your problem?”  
  
“I cannot stand being near women,” Lon’qu replied. “It is...something of a curse that I’ve carried my whole life.”  
  
“A curse?” Lyn echoed. “There are plenty of mages here that could help with that.”  
  
“Not that sort of curse,” Lon’qu replied, standing up and slowly backing from Lyn. “It is more to do with...me.”  
  
To Lyn, Lon’qu’s problem sounded very similar to Florina’s timidness around men. “I...see.”   
  
“Enough of this. I apologize to your friend, but I am done speaking with you.” He turned and started for the door out of the training area. “Good day.”

  
Lyn groaned as Lon’qu shut the door behind him. First there was the archer that seemed magnetized to traps, and now the myrmidon that was skittish around women. This Order of Heroes grew stranger and stranger by the day.

 


	34. Chapter 34

“I am told that in the world dwells one called a ‘summoner,’ who can call forth Heroes from other realms,” said Canas as he spoke with the robed man who had pulled him from the Tempest. “Do you think you might introduce us?”

 

The robed man froze, whipping his head around to fully face him. For some reason, Canas saw only shock in the other man’s eyes, and wondered if the robed man was some sort of assistant to the Summoner. “I’m sorry, I meant no offense...” the mage started.

 

The robed man inhaled deeply, then interrupted him. “Boy,” he said, “Do you not...” Then he trailed off, a smile forming on his lips. “Actually, yes. I can introduce you. Meet me in the castle library in an hour.” With that, the man took off.

 

An hour later saw Canas seated in the library, giddy with excitement. To meet the person behind everything occurring in the Order! What a privilege!

 

The door opened, and the robed man stepped through, seeming rather smug. Canas raised an eyebrow but made no comment on it. “Have you brought the Summoner with you? Are they willing to speak to me?”  


“Yes,” the robed man replied. He turned to the door and called, “Come on in, you guys!”  
  
Canas froze in shock, certain his expression was very similar to the one on the other man’s face when he asked for this meeting. Rather than a single individual, as Canas had expected, instead entered three others in attire similar to that of the robed man. One was a young woman with long pink hair, another woman with short blonde hair with pink tips, and the third was…

 

“Matthew!?” Canas exclaimed as the thief grinned at him. “What is going on here?”  


“You wanted to meet the Summoner,” the robed man replied. “The question is...which of us is it?”  
  
“Is this some sort of joke?” the mage demanded as both Matthew and the woman with pink hair began laughing.

 

“Actually, yes,” the robed man answered. “You already know Matthew. The other two are Soleil and Sharena, and my name is...”  


“Look, whatever the joke is, I’m not laughing,” Canas interrupted.

 

The robed man groaned. “Yeah, I know, it’s not that funny, but it’s the best I could come up with, and I didn’t care much for Matthew’s suggestion.”  
  
“Come on, man,” Matthew said. “I know finding a pack of dogs might be difficult in this war, but...”  
  
“But how would we even train them to perform a song-and-dance routine?” Soleil asked.

 

“Don’t underestimate my talents,” Matthew retorted. “Bold talk from someone with defenses as bad as yours.”  
  
“That’s funny, coming from a guy who sits on the sidelines all day!”  
  
Sharena grabbed Canas’ arm and led him away as the three fell to bickering. “Sorry about this,” Sharena murmured. “It was the Summoner’s idea. I didn’t want to go along with it, but...” And here her face twisted. “He threatened me with blackmail.”  
  
Canas sighed. “I believe I’ve made a mistake, coming here.”  
  
As they stepped out of the library, they heard the sound of a chair being tossed through a window. “You don’t even know the half of it.”  
  
“So do you think you could introduce me to the Summoner?” Canas asked as they moved down the hall.

Sharena facepalmed and sighed. “And yet, somehow, I think you’ll fit right in.”

 


	35. Chapter 35

“I’ve been thinking, Summoner...”  
  
“Oh boy,” the hooded man replied, looking up from his battle plans. Whenever Anna was “thinking,” it usually led to the Order growing ever closer to bankruptcy. He was starting to think of confiscating her snapshot tome… “Lay it on me.”  
  
“Remember my _Romeo and Juliet_ play from a few months ago?”  
  
“You mean the one you plagiarized?”

 

“It doesn’t count if the guy who wrote it doesn’t exist in this realm!” Anna replied. “But do you remember how it _didn’t_ sell?”  
  
The Summoner nodded slowly. After Marth and Caeda had refused to star in it, Anna had spent two weeks trying to secure someone else to play the lead roles. All seemed lost until Virion had stepped up to play Romeo, and then Anna had blackmailed Cordelia into playing Juliet. The pegasus knight had not enjoyed the role one bit, the Summoner recalled. He had always wondered what Cordelia had done that let the Commander control her like that.

 

Despite all that – or perhaps because of it – on opening night only eight people had shown up: the Summoner, Alfonse, Sharena, Selena, Robin, Chrom, Cherche, and, surprisingly, Oliver. None of the attendees had enjoyed the play at all.

 

“What of it?” the Summoner asked.

  
“I was thinking,” the Commander began, “what if we genderswapped one of the lead roles?”  
  
“What,” the Summoner replied flatly.

  
“I think it’ll really draw a crowd!” Anna declared. “Julian instead of Juliet! Rosario instead of Romeo! I mean, I think people just didn’t show because it was a classic guy on girl romance. That’s been done to death. People want to see something new, so what about a story where the leads are the same gender?”  
  
“They probably didn’t show up at the last play because it was terribly written,” the Summoner muttered. “And because you spoiled the ending in the posters you made for it.”  
  
“They needed to know it was tragedy! How else would they know to buy my tissues?”

 

The Summoner groaned. “Anna, I’m trying to be polite, but I really think you should stay out of the theater business. Like, completely.” Rising from his seat, the Summoner stepped out of his office, resolving to grab lunch in the mess hall and not come back until he was certain the Commander wasn’t in his office anymore.

 

As he shut the door behind him, Anna stroked her chin. “Hmmm...he didn’t say it was a _bad_ idea...”  



	36. Chapter 36

“Hey, Summoner!”

 

The Summoner was walking down the hall when he heard Catria’s voice, the sound of footsteps racing toward him. Before he could turn, he felt a hand slap his back and a smiling, blue-haired face came into his view. “Heya, how’s it going?”

  
  
“Pretty good,” the Summoner replied, arching an eyebrow. He and Catria rarely interacted, save for that _Dungeons & Dragons _session a while back. That she would seek him out like this was...unusual. “What do you need?”

 

“Oh, not much,” the pegasus knight replied. “I was just wondering...I feel as though I’ve reached the limits of my power, so I was hoping I could get a Master Seal now.”

  
  
The Summoner blinked. “A what now?”

  
  
“You know, a Master Seal?” Catria replied, staring at him. “The item that lets us reach new heights of strength?”  


The Summoner stared at her for a moment more, then stalked down the corridor, Catria trying to keep up. “Alfonse!” he called out. “What’s this about Master Seals, and why don’t we have any!?”

 


	37. Chapter 37

Gunnthra was quite surprised to realize she wasn’t alone in her tent.

 

Standing in the middle of her tent, she glanced at her bed to see a woman draped suggestively on it, smirking as she raised a brow. Gunnthra remembered the woman from her own world, and raised her tome at her. “How did you get here, Loki?” she demanded.

 

“How indeed?” Loki replied. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d pay you a visit.”   
  
“I have little interest in what you have to say,” Gunnthra snapped. “Begone!”  
  
Loki chuckled, rising to her feet. Her staff was clasped firmly in her hand, but she made no move to threaten Gunnthra with it. “You came from a world where Muspell won, did you not?”  
  
“ _Surtr_ won,” Gunnthra corrected. “When his rampage was through, nothing remained.”  


“How curious,” Loki said. “Nothing at all? Good to know.”

 

Gunnthra narrowed her eyes, subtly calling upon her magic. “I could easily call the guards to arrest you. What game are you playing, witch?”  


Loki laughed, and suddenly the Summoner was there, grinning at her. “Game? Who is to say this all _isn’t_ some sort of game? I am playing a long one, Princess of Ash. Once I am done...well, that would be telling.” Fjorm chuckled behind her hand. “I have but one question for you, and then I’ll leave. What became of the Summoner from your world?”  
  
That question caught Gunnthra off-guard. “ _My_ world? What do you mean? She likely burned, with all the rest.”  
  
“’She?’ How interesting. But did you ever actually _see_ her burn?”  
  
Gunnthra frowned. “We were...separated after Surtr struck down the Askran prince and my sisters. I never saw her again before I was pulled into this world.”

 

Loki smirked. “Is that so? Well, Princess, I thank you for your input. I believe I shall depart now. See you!”   


“Wait!” Gunnthra exclaimed, and finally cast Blizzard at her.   
  
The force of the icy wind tore the tent free and sent it fluttering in the frigid wind, but Loki remained standing. There were only a few Heroes and guards standing in the area, but almost all of them got over their shock quickly and charged at Loki.

 

“How cold of you, Princess, treating your guest like this. No wonder Nifl had no allies to stand against Muspell.” Laughing, Loki raised Thokk and unleashed its power. It slammed into multiple Heroes, slowing them down and allowing Loki the chance to flee right before Gunnthra was able to unleash a second, weaker Blizzard spell. Gunnthra pursued, but when she rounded a corner she saw only Zelgius, Alfonse, Anna, and Xander racing forward, weapons drawn. There was no sign of Loki.

 

Gunnthra shivered, and not because of Nifl’s cold. How had Surtr’s right-hand woman been able to infiltrate their camp like that?  
  
And, perhaps more importantly, why had she been so interested in the world of her origin? It did not sit well with Gunnthra as she spoke with Alfonse and Anna. Not at all.

 


	38. Chapter 38

“I CAN’T HANDLE IT ANYMORE!”

“Summoner?” Sharena called out, racing for his office. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything! This whole summoning pool!” the Summoner exclaimed as Sharena slammed open the door. “I can’t take it!”

“What do you mean? You’re not making any sense!”

The Summoner thrust a finger at Breidablik, laying innocently on the desk. “It’s cursed, Sharena! Cursed to chew up my orbs and spit back out nothing, no matter how many times I try to summon!”

“Summoner, calm down!” Sharena exclaimed. “You’re not making any sense!”

“None of it makes sense!” the Summoner spat. “Why oh why would fate be so cruel?”

Sharena did the only thing she could think of: she reached up and slapped him across the face. “Get a hold of yourself, Summoner! What’s wrong?”

The Summoner took a deep breath. “It’s the current pool.”

“What about it?”

“So many swimsuits...but none of them will come home...”

Sharena stared at him for a long moment. “That’s it? You were losing your mind and freaking out over swimsuits, you perv?”

“I...”

Sharena threw her hands into the air and stalked out, passing a distressed Anna as she left. The Commander barely spared the Askran princess a glance as she entered the office. “Summoner!” she cried. “We’re almost broke and we still don’t have anyone for the swimsuit issue!”

“I know!” And thus did the cries of dismay begin again, to Sharena’s eternal disappointment.


	39. Chapter 39

“These...are...so...difficult,” the Summoner panted, falling to the ground. “What mad genius designed these things?”  
  
“I did,” Alfonse flatly replied. “You need more training to prepare your tactical skills. Everything has changed so much since you first joined us over a year ago, and we need to be certain you’re up to speed.”  
  
“But why are they so _difficult_?” the Summoner moaned.

 

“If you’re unable to complete them, it is your own fault,” Alfonse said. “I told you to study up on the tactics books Robin, Soren, and Saias prepared for you.”  
  
“I didn’t think I’d need them!” the Summoner retorted. “I’ve been doing just fine!”  


“’Fine?’ You lose every other battle!”  
  
“Not the important ones!” the Summoner retorted.

 

“Whatever the case,” Alfonse replied, “the fact remains that you need to brush up on your skills. So we will be doing these over and over again until I’m satisfied with your progress.”  
  
The Summoner groaned. “You’re so mean. And Sharena was supposed to help me get my swimgear for the summer today.”  
  
Alfonse’s eyes snapped toward him, cold chips of ice. “Correction. We will be going through each of them _twice_ until I am satisfied.”  
  
“Motherfu--”


	40. Chapter 40

Anna gaped at the image, hands shaking. “S-summoner? What is this?”

He shrugged. “It’s my drawing.”

“But...but...how can you even call this a drawing?”

“You asked me to draw. I did.”

“But how am I supposed to sell this?” the Commander demanded. “This...this can’t even be considered a drawing! This is...”

“The best thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“I...I...I…I...I...I...”

“Commander?” Sharena said. “Are you alright?”

“I...I...I...I...I...I...I...”

“Dear gods, I think we broke her,” Alfonse gasped. “Someone get Emergency Kit: Red!”

“On it!” Sharena said, dashing off.

The Summoner glanced at his friend. “Emergency Kit: Red?”

“We have emergency kits set up for each of us in case something breaks us. There’s Blue, Red, Yellow, and Gold.”

“What about Silver and Crystal?”

Alfonse tilted his head. “What about them?”

“Nevermind. What’s in the Commander’s?”

“A bag of gold. Hopefully the smell will help her.”

“I...I...I...I...I...I...I...”

“Soon,” the prince added.


	41. Chapter 41

“Summoner? What is this?”

The Summoner glanced up. “It’s an accessory, Hector.”

“Okay, I get that,” the large man nodded. “I’m just wondering...why do I have to wear it?”

The Summoner grinned. “Oh, no reason. I just think it’ll look good on you.”

Hector glanced at what he held in his hand, then back at the Summoner. “But this?”

“Yes.”

“Couldn’t I have that cool mask you gave Gunnthra?”

“No.”

“Lucina’s mask?”

“No.”

“Either of them?”

“No.”

“Grima’s Feh doll?”

“She’s fallen in love with it. She won’t let anyone near it.”

Hector groaned. “But why do I get the rubber duck?”

The Summoner’s grin grew. “Because I think it’ll look adorable on you.”

“I’m the Marquess of Ostia! I’m not supposed to look...’adorable.’” 

“But Lilina will like it if you wear it.”

That got Hector to hesitate. “She will?”

“Yup. She thinks if her dad were to wear a cute bird on his head, it’ll help people like him more.”

Hector scratched his chin. “Hmmm...I think people like me plenty, but if Lilina thinks that I should...”

“Go for it. Wear it for a day. If you don’t like it tomorrow, then I can have someone else take the ducky.”

“Alright then.” Hector put the rubber duck on his head, which magically stayed on. “Let’s see how this goes.” 

As he lumbered out of the Summoner’s office, Lyn and Lilina slipped out of an alcove near his bookcase. Both girls were trying – and failing – to keep smiles off their faces. “I didn’t think you’d be able to convince him,” Lyn said. 

“What can I say?” the Summoner replied, grinning back. “I have a natural talent.”


	42. Chapter 42

“Odin,” Laslow murmured as they sat in the dining hall. “Did...did Noire always look like that?”

The blonde mage in question glanced at his companion, then followed his gaze to the scantily-clad archer trying her best to make herself as small as possible in a corner. “Uh...not that I recall, no.”

“It’s...certainly a surprise,” Laslow concurred. “I didn’t think Noire had it in her to wear such a thing in public.”

“Wonder if her mother cursed her to wear it.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

“...Looks good though.”

“Oh, I’m in no way complaining.”

“If you two perverts are done ogling her,” Selena snapped as she sat down across from them, “we should brace ourselves because I’m pretty sure the Summoner is going to have us run into the Tempest again today.”

“Come on, Selena,” Laslow said. “Even you have to find it strange that Noire of all people is wearing such an outfit.”

“No stranger than Lucina in a bunny suit,” Selena retorted. “Which, by the way, doesn’t look half bad on her, so don’t even comment on it.”

A grin spread across Odin’s face. “You know, it’s funny you mentioned Lucina. Especially since you’ve been spending a lot of time with the one carrying a lance.”

“T-that’s none of your business!” Selena snapped, blushing. “Quit being such dorks and just eat! And stop looking at Noire like that!”

Her two friends laughed, while Selena looked down at her food and began shoveling it into her mouth. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could leave the two of them behind.

Dorks.


	43. Chapter 43

When the Summoner heard a knock on the door, he inwardly groaned. A knock usually preceded yet more shenanigans perpetrated by the Order of Heroes. Which usually meant another headache for him. Briefly, he considered ordering whoever it was to go away, but ultimately realized that whatever incident this was, it would strike him sooner rather than later. _Might as well get it over with_. “Come in.”  


The door to his office opened, and, to the Summoner’s slight surprise, it was Joshua. The gambler rarely spoke to the Summoner – probably due to the fact the Summoner rarely used him in battle anymore.

 

“Summoner,” Joshua began smoothly, “Commander Anna sent me. We have a new betting pool you might be interested in.”  
  
“Oh?” He was not typically a gambling man, but what else was he supposed to do when he couldn’t watch _Steven Universe_ or _Adventure Time_ anymore? “And what sort of bet is this? If this is anything like the last one about which of the manaketes is a closeted pervert, count me out. I have no desire to have my handsome face burned off.”  
  
Joshua hesitated briefly. The angry rampaging dragons had wreaked destruction upon the castle upon discovery, and it had cost hundreds of thousands of gold to repair. Alfonse, Sharena, and the Summoner had not been happy. “This isn’t like that, Summoner,” Joshua replied. “This is a more...romantic betting pool.”  
  
The Summoner leaned forward. This had caught his attention. “Go on.”  
  
“Well, the Commander had noticed that a lot of Heroes had been getting rather...close lately. And I don’t mean couples that were already close, like Marth and Caeda or Eirika and Lyon. I mean ones that are of completely different worlds.”  
  
“You mean like how Selena and Lancina are getting close?”  
  
“Exactly,” Joshua nodded, ignoring the Summoner’s nickname for the lance-wielding warrior. “The Commander thought it would be a perfect opportunity to raise funds. Care for a wager?”  


The Summoner tapped his chin, deep in thought. On the one hand, Anna’s frequent attempts to make money had led the Order to near-destitution. They needed the money, and bad. But on the other, if the Heroes found out they were so callously bet on their love lives, there would be hell to pay. The Summoner knew _he’d_ be mad if such a thing were to happen to him.

 

Ultimately, however, it was his own curiosity that spurred him onward. “Fine. Put me down for 30 gold on...Xander and Olwen.”  
  
“That’s an odd one,” Joshua said as he scribbled on a notepad. “Most people are betting on Xander and Takumi.”  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
Joshua shrugged. “Probably because there are no Ryomas here.”  
  
“That makes sense.” The Summoner shrugged. “Call it a...Summoner’s hunch.” He grinned beneath his hood.  
  
Joshua laughed, heading out the door. “It’s your money, Summoner. Personally, I don’t see it happening.”  
  
As the myrmidon closed the door behind him, the Summoner leaned back in his chair, smiling. He had complete confidence in winning this bet.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?


	44. Chapter 44

As it turned out, it could go very, very wrong.

 

Anna had her hands up, trying her best to placate the angry mob before her. They had her cornered in the courtyard, around twelve angry individuals that didn’t appreciate having their personal lives exploited for the Commander’s profit margins. Anna wondered who it was that spilled the beans about the bet, but she and Joshua had been pulling so many people in that there was no way for her to find out.

 

(Her money was on the Summoner.)

 

“Look, everyone, I had every intention of splitting the profits!” she said.

 

“As if,” scoffed Selena. “We all know how you Annas operate.”  
  
Sounds of agreement came from the rest of the gathered horde. Anna cursed silently. “I thought we determined that I wasn’t anything like them! I mean, most of my cousins and sisters wouldn’t have even picked up an axe and helped fight!”

 

“No,” allowed Robin, “but most Commanders wouldn’t be so nosy as to make their soldiers’ lives a spectacle for money.”  
  
“I wasn’t making your lives a ‘spectacle,’” Anna retorted. “We were just watching to see who would end up with who!”  


“That’s what a spectacle is,” Catria replied flatly.

 

“Look, I’m sorry!” Anna exclaimed. “How can I make it up to you so none of you kill me!?”  
  
“For starters, return the money you got for the pool,” Robin answered. “Then have everyone who joined in on it stop following us around!”

 

A chorus of agreement. Anna made a small sound of despair. “But...but...”  
  
Angry glares all around. The Commander sighed, throwing up her arms. “Fine! Fine! I’ll throw myself into poverty just to make you all happy!”  
  
Catria grinned. “That’s all we ask for,” she said as the crowd dispersed.

 


	45. Chapter 45

The castle of Askr burned. 

The smoke and flames burned her nostrils and made her eye water as she stumbled away, clutching Breidablik and Folkvangr close to her chest as she ran. Her legs screamed in protest with each step, and every atom of her being begged for her to stop, to give in to her defeat and let the darkness that spread its arms wide embrace her. 

She ignored it, and kept going. 

She didn’t get far. 

A force of Muspell soldiers cut off her route as she came in sight of the Summoning Altar, infantry and two mounted mages. She froze, trembling, her one good eye glaring with all the hate she could muster. 

“You’re so predictable, little girl,” someone mocked, and she looked over her shoulder to see Anna standing nearby, grinning and laughing at her. “Running for the Altar. Were you hoping that it could be used to send you home? Run all the way back to whatever world you crawled out of?”

“Get out of my way, witch,” she snarled. 

Anna laughed again. “Is that any way to speak to your Commander?”

“But you’re not my Commander, witch,” was the reply.

“No,” the impostor smirked, “I’m not. But I like using her form, and it’s not like she can tell me ‘no.’”

She twisted her lips in rage, which only made Loki laugh all the more. “Poor, pathetic little girl. I’d kill you, here and now, but Surtr wants you for his flames. A more fitting end for a failure like you, I can’t imagine. So come along quietly, and maybe I’ll have an archer hasten your death when Surtr sets you on fire.”

She brandished Folkvangr, but Loki saw how poorly she held the grip and only shook her head. “Oh that’s cute. Going to try and stab me, all by your lonesome. You’re desperately outnumbered, and there’s no way you can use that weapon against me. You’re no fighter.”

“At least I’ll go down fighting.”

Loki brandished her staff. “Will you now?”

She could hear the Muspell troops preparing their weapons, and knew she had no chance of survival. But she thought of her Commander, stabbed in the back. She thought of her Princess, burned alive. 

She thought of her Prince, his head impaled on a pike outside the Muspell castle following a strike gone terribly wrong. Tears threatened to escape her eye, but she forced them back. She would not give this bitch the satisfaction.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, the Summoner charged.


	46. Chapter 46

Walhart’s face twisted in displeasure. “You dare face me, boy? I do not know who you are, but you are nothing but a fool to challenge myself.”

Alm glared at the arrogant man, resplendent in his red armor. His grip on his weapon tightened, but Celica rested a calming hand on his shoulder. “Alm. He’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it? He threw our entire legacy into the dirt, stomped on it and glorified himself as some sort of Conqueror like Rudolf.” His eyes narrowed. “From what Lucina has told me, he’s a madman.”

Celica’s grip tightened. She had discovered soon after Alm’s summoning that he was from a time when he had only recently started fighting for the Deliverance. As such, he did not know the truth about Rudolf. “Peace, Alm. This isn’t worth it.”

Alm glanced at her, and something her gaze made him relax. Sheathing his sword, Alm turned and stalked off. Behind him, Walhart called out, “You are wise, boy. I have trampled men greater than you.”

Alm ignored him, and once he was gone, Walhart huffed and turned to leave himself. He was stopped when Celica stepped forward. “I would ask that you not interact with him any further.”

“A flea, asking the dog for favors? Why would I ever listen to the likes of you?”

Celica glared. “I am told you come from a continent called Valm. In my time, we called it Valentia.”

Walhart’s eyes slightly widened. “Valentia? Then you and he are...”

“Yes. But he comes from a time before he became a legend. I am from a little after the war. I ask because you remind him too much of Rudolf...and I do not want to risk him realizing the truth before it is time.”

Walhart turned away from her briefly, then faced her once more. “Growing up, I was told many stories of the Saint-King. Of how he struck down the gods and unified a broken nation. I was always inspired by those tales. Some have even claimed I could trace my bloodline back to him…and you.” He sighed. “Very well. Out of respect of the nation we both love – and for what you and he did so long ago – I shall do as you ask. But only this once. A conqueror does not make it a habit to listen to those beneath him.”

“A conqueror would be wise to do otherwise,” Celica retorted, “or he will find that those he steps on have knives for his back.”

Walhart smirked. “You truly are the Saint-Queen of legend.” He turned to go. “Then they had best be swift with their knives. They will not have a second chance.”


	47. Chapter 47

Hector fell first, followed in short order by Nowi, Soleil, and finally Julius, who screamed in rage as the annoyingly blank-faced Emblia mook stabbed him in the stomach. As he crumbled, the Summoner backed away, biting his lower lip. The four of them were down, and he was alone. He knew he should’ve swapped Soleil out for a healer before they left. Her defenses were utter shit. 

There were only two soldiers left, but the Summoner had no defenses. He could barely lift a sword, nevermind fight off a pair of trained soldiers. 

Maybe he should’ve pressed the mages harder for tome lessons. They would come very handy right about now.

Leveling Breidablik at them, the Summoner shouted, “Stay back, you mooks! I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!”

The two paused, glancing at each other. They had been briefed on the Summoner and Breidablik, but they had never been told what exactly the Summoner’s tool could actually do. 

“I’ve never heard of him using it before,” one said, a cavalier with a spear. “He’s bluffing.”

“I don’t know,” replied the wind mage beside him. She gestured at the four beaten Heroes behind them. “Why would they leave him so unguarded if he couldn’t defend himself?”

Because I expected them to kick your mook asses, the Summoner thought. 

“Must be a bluff,” the cavalier decided. 

“But what if it’s not? What if we move and he…”

“He what?”

“I don’t know! I just remember a rumor I heard at the mess tent last week. That Her Highness fears him.”

Veronica feared him? Doubtful, now that he thought about it – she had a tendency to dismiss him as a tick she couldn’t get rid of on her best days – but maybe he could use that to his advantage here…

“That’s rubbish and you know it,” the cavalier snapped. “Veronica doesn’t fear anything! Certainly not him.”

“Oh yeah?” the Summoner called out. “Then why hasn’t she beaten us yet?”

“Well...” the cavalier began, “Because she’s fighting a war against all of Askr. You’re just one of many targets.”

“Really now? Remember when she invaded Askr a while back? Remember how that turned out?” The Summoner put on his most menacing grin, deciding not to mention that he had been hiding behind a pillar the entire battle. “I charged straight at her, yelling at the top of my lungs, and then shot her with this.” He waved Breidablik slightly, never taking it off the enemy. “A few good shots and she was running home crying, begging me for mercy.” In truth a near-miss from her tome had made him scream and nearly bolt. Alfonse had to physically restrain him.

“That’s a lie!” the cavalier snapped.

“But what if it’s not!?” the wind mage declared. “I have a wife back home I have to think about! I’m not about to put my ass at risk like this!”

“There’s another thing this baby can do,” the Summoner said. When they looked at him, he continued, “You see, when I summon a Hero, they can’t really die. I mean, you assholes can kill them, sure, but so long as I have this they come back right as rain. In fact...did I just see Lord Hector twitch?”

The two jumped, looking back at the four bodies behind them. In truth, nobody had moved; the Summoner had to get closer to them. But the two Emblians, already intimidated, saw what he wanted them to see. “He’s right; I think he did!”

“That bastard’s a menace!” the cavalier declared, recalling how Hector has carved through the troops and shuddering. 

“And now you get to fight him again,” the Summoner said, smiling. 

“Screw this!” the wind mage declared, and raced for the trees. 

“Get back here!” the cavalier called.

“You want to get mauled by him, go right ahead! No skin off my back!” 

“Shit.” Glancing at the Summoner, the cavalier muttered “Shit!” one more time before sending his horse in a gallop, passing the mage entirely and soon both were gone.

Sighing in relief, the Summoner walked up to the four Heroes and, with Breidablik, brought each back to life. 

“Woah,” Soleil groaned. “What happened?”

“I saved the day,” the Summoner grinned. 

“You?” Julius snapped, at once surprised and indignant. 

The Summoner nodded. “Never underestimate me.”


	48. Chapter 48

“Don’t you ever take that off?” Alfonse asked. 

“What do you mean?” the Summoner replied, looking at him from within his hood.

“I mean, we’re here at a beach, and you’re still wearing your cloak.”

“My arms aren’t in the sleeves,” was the reply, and the Summoner waved his arms to highlight this, “and I’m in my swimming gear. They do this all the time in anime.”

“In what?”

“Nevermind. Besides, Gunnthra is still in her normal outfit.” He gestured to an umbrella a ways further down the beach, where the pink-haired princess in question was indeed snoozing in her outfit from Nifl. “And nobody’s talking to her about it.”

“I honestly don’t understand how she can stand that,” Alfonse agreed. “I mean, isn’t she burning up in that?”

“I don’t think she’s even breaking a sweat,” the Summoner concurred. “It must be the same as whatever magic keeps Tharja warm in the snow.”

Before they could discuss this magic any further, the Summoner exclaimed in surprise as a volleyball struck him in the side of the head. Alfonse turned to look and saw Sharena, Lucina, Chrom, and Lukas playing the game in question against Hector, Lilina, Fjorm, and Arthur. “That was my bad, friend!” Arthur called out, the Nohrian retainer’s face contrite. “I failed to hit the ball at the proper angle!” 

“Don’t worry about it!” the Summoner called back. As he tossed the ball back toward the court, Alfonse noted something. “Have you seen the Commander anywhere?”

“Probably off with that tome of hers somewhere. Why?”

“I just don’t think leaving the Commander on her own around here is a good idea.”

The Summoner shrugged. “If it turns out Muspell and Emblia just so happen to be taking a beach trip on this very same Outrealm we’ll rescue her later. Right now, we’re here to swim!” And with that, the Summoner took off, muttering under his breath as he raced across the hot sand and leaped into the refreshing water with a massive splash. 

Alfonse, on the other hand, stood and wandered off. Unlike the Summoner, he realized that Anna should be kept an eye on. He didn’t want to risk another “wardrobe malfunction” incident. He shuddered inwardly. 

Meanwhile, on the far side of the island, the Commander in question crept through the undergrowth, her snapshot tome at the ready. She grinned; looks like her cousin’s intel was right. There they were, the chief players of Muspell and Emblia, frolicking in the water. 

Or, at least, a few of them were. 

“Dammit, I wanted snapshots of the loli princess!” Anna muttered under her breath. Instead, Veronica was standing far from the ocean, still in her normal outfit, with Xander and Surtr standing not far away. The Nohrian, at least, was dressed for the occasion, but the same could not be said for the King of Muspell. 

Laegjarn suddenly burst from the water and waved at her sister, then dived once more before Anna could take a shot. Laevatein stood uncertainly on the shoreline, clearly torn between joining her sister and staying right where she was. To Anna’s disappointment, the angle wasn’t that great, so she couldn’t get a flattering picture of the younger Muspell woman either. 

Anna gritted her teeth. She would not be denied! Not this time! She’d get a snapshot, or die trying!

And it suddenly seemed as though it would be the latter option, as a hand fell on her shoulder and closed around her mouth before she could scream and alert the enemy. She turned around and slightly relaxed when she realized it was only Jaffar and Kaze. 

“What are you two doing here?” Anna hissed. 

“Prince Alfonse sent us to find you,” the Hoshidan ninja replied. “He wanted you to return.”

Anna waved her snapshot tome. “Not until I get some good pictures! I need to make something off this trip!”

“He said you might say that too,” Kaze added, and nodded to Jaffar. Before Anna knew it, the snapshot tome was snatched from her grip by the ex-Black Fang member and both disappeared into the fronds. Anna remained where she was for a long moment, then raced after them, crashing through the brush. 

As she disappeared, Jaffar stepped back out, still clutching the tome. Alfonse had indeed sent Jaffar and Kaze after the Commander, but Jaffar was a new recruit and easily incapacitated. This Jaffar shed his disguise, and Loki intently studied the tome in her hands. 

“My my,” Loki muttered. “Now isn’t this interesting?” She grinned, looking back at where Kaze and Anna had disappeared. If they were here…

This vacation was about to get very interesting.


	49. Chapter 49

Grima did not make it a habit to associate herself with the alternate versions of the Ylissean worms. The Summoner at least had the wisdom to realize this and rarely paired her with anyone from the World of Awakening. Most notably he had placed her in a team of fliers, women atop pegasus. They rarely spoke to her, and Grima responded in kind. 

“Why don’t you talk to us?”

Usually.

The Vessel of the Fell Dragon looked down at the girl who spoke, the little green-haired mage. Grima had scoffed at her when the Summoner first brought the girl into this world; she was a spellcaster, and yet could barely read? Was her younger self not enough?

“What difference does it make to you?” Grima retorted. “We are not friends, nor do I have any desire to be.”

“But why not?” the mage-girl asked. “It must be lonely, being distant from everyone.”

“Hardly,” Grima scoffed. “What does one such as me need of companionship? I am the wings of despair, I am the breath of ruin.”

The girl paused, and Grima hoped she’d take the hint and get lost. “Jaffar talked like that too, quite a lot actually. He insisted he didn’t need anyone.”

“A wise man,” Grima noted. 

“But eventually we convinced him otherwise. Being alone just means you die alone, and that’s...that’s just sad.”

“It just means there’s nothing to challenge your might,” Grima retorted. “Nothing to challenge your supremacy. I slaughtered the Earth Dragons beneath the Dragon’s Table before the First Exalt defeated me, and when I returned I finished the job with everything and everyone in existence.”

“And then what?”

Grima paused. “What do you mean?”

“When you destroyed everything,” the girl replied, “what happened next?”

Grima stared at her for a long, long moment. “I’m through with this conversation,” she snapped, then hurled herself into the air, far from the pest and her annoying questions. What happened next? As if there ever needed to be a next. There would only ever be her, and there needed to be nothing else.

Right?


	50. Chapter 50

“Big brother!”  
  
Ryoma turned just in time to receive a full-force hug to his midsection. Grinning, he returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around Sakura. “I’ve missed you so much!” his little sister said.

  
The Emperor of Hoshido paused, thinking over his response. After being summoned, the Summoner had warned Ryoma that he could encounter versions of his siblings here that were not from his world, or even his time. For all he knew, this Sakura came from the past, long before Corrin made that fateful decision in the fields of Hoshido.

 

“It’s good to see you too, little sister,” Ryoma replied, smiling. “Where are Hinoka and Takumi?”  
  
“They’re off training,” Sakura replied. “But all of them will be here to see you when they’re done! E-even the evil Takumi!”  
  
“The what?” Ryoma blinked.

 

“Oh, right. You probably won’t know him. Prince Alfonse once mentioned that our world has three different outcomes. Which one did you come from?”  
  
Ryoma stared at her for a long moment, at a loss for words. “I...I come from a world where we of Hoshido joined forces with Nohr to defeat the mad god of Valla.”  
  
Sakura nodded. “Me too. But the Hinokas and the evil Takumi come from other worlds.”  


“Hinoka _s_?” Ryoma echoed, placing great emphasis on the ‘s.’

 

Sakura smiled sweetly but sadly at that, and Ryoma, for all the love he held for his siblings, already felt a headache coming on. _Maybe I should’ve listened to Xander and gotten that drink after all…_


	51. Chapter 51

“May I speak with you, Your Highness?”

Despite the kindness and relative calm of her voice, it still sent chills riding up and down Alfonse’s spine, anger and hate flaring in his chest. It was far too easy to recall the little girl, taunting him and the rest of the Order as she sought to destroy everything and dominate Askr. 

Alfonse’s hands tightened into fists and he turned around. The Order’s latest recruit stood there, hand clasped around her staff. He could not see Xander anywhere, which was a bit of a relief. Speaking to Veronica would be awkward enough without the High Prince of Nohr glaring at him from over her shoulder, and Anna had insisted that Alfonse at least be civil with Veronica. “She’s not the same person as the one we’re fighting a war with,” she had said.

“Isn’t she?” Alfonse had replied.

“What can I do for you?” he asked her, doing his best to keep his voice level.

“You have been avoiding me,” she answered. 

Alfonse stiffened. Had he been so obvious? “I...do not know what you mean,” he replied lamely. 

Veronica tilted her head. “Your Highness, if my presence bothers you, it would benefit the Order as a whole if we came to some sort of an understanding.”

Alfonse bit back the reply he had prepared for that. “Oh?” he said instead.

“I am not the same as the Veronica you fight against. I almost became...like her...but Bruno and I were able to overcome it and make peace with Askr. When he disappeared, I journeyed through the gates in search of him.”

“And why don’t you continue that search?” the Askran prince asked, his voice harsher than he had intended but he couldn’t stop it now. “How do I know that you being here isn’t some sort of security breach? How do I know you aren’t Loki in disguise? This could all be a trick. You’d save both of us grief.”

Veronica blinked. “I have heard of this Loki from the others, and I assure you I am not she, no more than I believe you are. And to answer your first question, Your Highness, I am here because...” Here she momentarily faltered, looking away before facing him once more. “I feel responsible for this version of myself. If things had gone differently...if this version of Bruno had come to you sooner, as he did in my world, then perhaps we might have been saved. I want to try and save her, if nothing else.”

Alfonse stared at her for a long moment. This had not been the answer he had been expecting. The Veronica he knew and loathed was a cruel, maniacal woman. The fact that the one before him was not overtly cruel – and more than that, but according to Sharena, was fairly protective of the Summoner, threatening to “pop the heads of his enemies like she did her dolls.” His accusation that she might be a spy now made him feel awful. 

“I...applaud your intentions, Veronica,” he finally replied. “I do not know if you and I will ever truly be friends, but I do appreciate what you’re trying to do for the Order.”

She did not smile, but her face warmed nonetheless. “Thank you, Your Highness. I am glad we were able to speak like this.” She turned. “Xander will be look for me by now, no doubt. I should go and find him.”

“Of course,” Alfonse said as she retreated from view. He could not bring himself to say ‘farewell,’ but he did offer a small wave to her back. That had not gone at all as he expected. Taking a deep breath, he turned only to see the Summoner and Sharena standing on the far end of the hall, grinning at him. “What?” the prince demanded.

“It’s good to see you making new friends, bro,” Sharena said. 

“We were looking for you for the war council, but when we saw who you were talking to we decided to wait,” the Summoner explained. “So, when’s the wedding?”

Alfonse glanced at him, not sure if he was serious or not. “Not now, you two. Let’s get to that council.” He stalked between them. “And I would appreciate a little privacy in the future when I’m speaking to someone.”

“Sure,” the Summoner replied, still grinning. “Whatever you say.”


	52. Chapter 52

“I’m worried I’ve made a mistake,” the Summoner admitted as he sat in the charred forest of Muspell. 

“How so?” Gunnthra replied, turning slightly as she brushed her horse. 

“About Veronica,” he admitted. “The one we recruited from another world. I’ve seen how the troops react when she’s around, and not just the Askrans.” He frowned. “Alfonse and Anna have trouble trusting her, not that I blame them. But she’s given us a lot of input about Emblia troop movements and how to avoid them.”

Gunnthra hummed, continuing her work in silence for a moment. “Have you spoken to the others about this?”

“A little. Sharena, at least, is willing to give her the benefit of the doubt after all this time. But Alfonse is reluctant to even be in the same room as her, and the Commander is constantly worried that any security breach she represents, despite the fact Veronica has been on her best behavior.”

“It sounds much like the problems you faced after recruiting the two Fallen Heroes into the army.”

“Maybe. Everyone from the World of Awakening, especially Lucina, was worried about Grima, but she hasn’t tried anything at all, and I don’t think it’s just because of the contract. And Celica won’t try anything unless Duma happens to be involved.” The Summoner groaned. “But Veronica has been the face of our enemy for over a year. Most of our units that have been with us since the start – especially Eliwood and Nino – share Alfonse’s misgivings, especially after the attack on the altar. Even though Surtr and Loki have proven to be greater threats...” He groaned. “I don’t know if I’m describing it well enough. How can I get others to trust someone they’ve hated for over a year?”

“Well,” Gunnthra began, finally pausing in her brushing to face him fully, “why do you trust her?”

That gave the Summoner pause. Why did he trust her so much? She had admitted to thinking about killing him – or rather, another version of him, which was just as disturbing. “I like to think that anyone can be given a second chance. And if this is how Veronica normally is...I want to believe that our Veronica can be redeemed somehow.”

Gunnthra smiled warmly, and dammit, he hated it when she did that. It was really beautiful. “You always seem to be willing to give people the benefit of the doubt,” she said.

He paused, thinking of Laegjarn and the disastrous conversation he’d had with her when she was in the Order’s captivity. “Not always,” he replied.

Gunnthra shrugged, returning to her brushing. “Still, it’s admirable that you try at all. You’ve given chances to Grima and Michalis and so many others that the Heroes distrust. You’re a good person.”

The Summoner blushed. “Thanks...” he mumbled, turning away.


	53. Chapter 53

The Summoner knew he was in a real pickle. Which sucked, because he normally liked pickles. 

It started when their spies among the Emblains reported that Veronica was planning a massive invasion soon, targeting several fortresses along the Askr-Emblia border. An invasion that was meant to overwhelm and conquer those fortresses, paving the way for an Emblian attack on Askr itself. And, according to rumor, Veronica planned on using every last Hero she possessed for the assault. 

This was concerning, and prompted Anna to convene a war council. The fortresses were manned mainly by standard Askran soldiers (Alfonse noted that his father refused to let them position any Heroes in those fortresses). The targeted forts were too spread out for the Order to be able to help all of them at once, so the Summoner decided to divide their Heroes into five brigades: he, Alfonse, Sharena, and Anna would command four of them and defend the forts, while Fjorm would stay behind with the rest and guard the castle as a fallback point. 

The following day, the Summoner and the brigade under his command left for the fort. When he arrived, the man in charge of the fort spouted nonsense about the Order being unnecessary, that the Emblians would be no match for solid Askran steel, but Grima had intimidated him into silence. 

The rest of the day was spent with the Summoner analyzing the field. He realized that the brigade would be at a disadvantage in the field, and would likely allow the enemy to slip past and destroy the fort, so instead he decided on a more defensive maneuver. He would split the brigade into teams of five, rotating them out at different points of the battle to keep the enemy off-balance. 

Then the Empire had come, the Heroes charging in from the north. The Summoner swallowed as he gazed upon the attackers; he had not anticipated so many. But his Heroes did not let him down; the first wave was easily beaten back that evening. 

The second wave was more difficult, these Heroes having more abilities than the previous wave, but they, too, were beaten. 

But now the Summoner knew he was in a bind. The third wave had been defeated, but only by the skin of his teeth, and his Heroes were exhausted. And he could still see the campfires glowing past the mountains, the Emblians mocking him. They could lose multiple times. He only needed to lose once. 

“We should try and ambush them now, before they have a chance to recover,” Reinhardt suggested. 

“Too risky,” Robin replied, pointedly ignoring his twisted alternate self sitting across the table from him. “They probably have eyes on us, as we do them. The moment they see any activity, they’ll likely launch another assault.”

“And then I can crush their bones beneath my teeth,” Grima said, grinning. “Who dies first?”

“Even you won’t be able to hold off waves of Heroes,” the Black Knight retorted. “None of us can.”

“Is that fear I hear in your voice, knight?” she mocked. 

“Only common sense,” the Knight shot back. “The fact remains that the troops we fought were only probes, trying to find weaknesses. The real attack will come before long. And they will use their real Heroes for that assault.”

“All the more reason to attack now,” Reinhardt said. “They’ll likely send in the weaker ones first, to soften us up, before marching on us.”

The Summoner glanced at Veronica, who was silent. Of the five he had summoned for the meeting, only she had yet to speak. “Veronica?” he prompted. “Any input?”

The princess of an alternate universe seemed to jump, as though surprised anyone would call on her. As she glanced at the five faces now staring at her, she swallowed. “I think that what Lord Reinhardt suggests maybe what the enemy wants us to do.”

“What do you mean?” Black Knight asked.

“Either myself or my brother are in command of these Heroes – and if not them, then they command one of the other forces assaulting the border, and they’ll have left very specific instructions on how to proceed to whoever is in charge here. The Black Knight was correct; the first waves we fought were only probes, checking us for weaknesses. But now that they know Heroes are involved – and have likely realized you are here as well, Summoner – the Emblians will hold back and try to goad us into acting rashly. They’ll either wait us out for our guard to lower, or wait for us to attack first. They may have already moved in dagger-units to flank us if we attack the camp.” Noticing the concerned looks on Robin, Reinhardt, and the Summoner, she quickly added, “It’s only a guess, though.”

“Guess or not, we must assume you’re correct. After all, you are our expert on Emblian tactics,” Robin said. Veronica blushed even as Robin continued, “While I don’t relish the idea of a head-on assault, I also don’t like the idea of sitting around waiting for them to attack.”

“The Emblians seem to have the advantage here,” Reinhardt agreed. “A prospect I don’t enjoy. Perhaps we could call for reinforcements from the other commanders?”

“We’ll have to assume they’re under the same pressure we are,” the Summoner sighed. “If they were more successful, they’ll have sent a messenger owl by now.”

“And Princess Fjorm is too far away to call for help,” the Black Knight said.

The room fell quiet, gazing at the map in the middle of the table. The Summoner groaned. “So we must continue our fight as I have planned it, I suppose. At least until we can find a way to turn the tables around.”

Grima laughed. “A coward’s stance. Let the fortress burn, so long as our enemies burn with it.”

Robin glared as he stood, his chair creaking as it was pushed back from the table. “Absolutely not. You may consider this a game, monster, but we know what’s at stake here. We lose even one fortress, Emblia will have a clear path to march right into Askr. That is completely unacceptable and would put us in a major tactical disadvantage in the long run.”

Grima smirked. “Aw, don’t tell me the prospect of death frightens you, Robin. It would be so disappointing to learn that I was such a frightened maggot before I embraced my future.”

“Enough!” the Black Knight roared before Robin could retort. “This bickering is pointless. Let us adjourn for now, and resume this in the morning with clearer heads. Agreed?”

Nods all around, and one by one the Heroes filed out of the room. But the Summoner remained, gazing at the tactical map, Grima’s words floating in his mind…


	54. Chapter 54

_It’s...over._

 

Those two words replayed over and over in his head as he sat in the camp just outside the gateway back to Askr. Part of him couldn’t believe it; he who had terrorized them for so long was, at long last, _gone_. Weakened by Alm, then slain by Fjorm’s final blow.

 

_It’s over._

 

Around him the Order prepared to return to the castle, Alfonse and Anna directing efforts to pack the last of their gear and be ready to move out once the word was given. The Summoner expected that Fjorm would be remaining behind, to help her brother and sister in rebuilding their kingdom.

 

_It’s over._

 

“Summoner? You alright?”  
  
He raised his head and looked to see Sharena standing beside him. The princess of Askr sat down next to him, concern writ across her face. “I’m alright, Sharena. Just…part of me can’t believe it. Surtr’s gone, and we’re still here.”  
  
Sharena nodded. “It’s a little hard to believe. After everything Surtr put us through, I was kinda worried for a while that we couldn’t stop him.”  
  
The Summoner smirked. “You? Losing hope? I guess things really were that dire.”   
  
Sharena laughed, before her face became more somber. “I wonder what’s going to happen to Gunnthra, though.”  
  
The Summoner frowned. He hadn’t thought of that. The eldest princess of Nifl had perished in this world, but the Summoner had brought forth Gunnthra of another world to here. One where nearly all of them were already dead. She had barely spoken about her plans once Surtr was defeated, only that she wished to see an end to the war.

 

“I don’t know. I imagine she’ll stay here, with Fjorm and the others. Why wouldn’t she? Here, all her siblings are still alive.”  
  
Sharena shrugged. “She barely interacted with any of them during the campaign,” she pointed out. “She always kept her distance, especially from Fjorm.”   
  
The Summoner nodded. “I noticed that too. Do you think it has something to do with what happened in her other world?”  
  
“Maybe. Should we ask her?”  
  
“Perhaps we should. Have you seen her?”  
  
Sharena shook her head. “Not since we got back from Muspell.”  
  
The Summoner stood. “Then we should find her,” he said as Sharena followed suit.   
  
The Princess nodded, but when she turned, she froze. “Erm...Summoner? Is that Princess Fjorm?”  
  
The Summoner followed her gaze, and indeed the Princess of Nifl was approaching the camp. Exchanging bewildered glances, the two approached her, and the three met toward the edge of camp.   
  
“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” the Summoner said. “Didn’t we already say our farewells back at the Muspell border?”  
  
“We did. I just had to say farewell to my brother and sister before we head back to Askr.”  
  
The Summoner started. “’We?’” he echoed.

 

“Well, yes. That is, if you’ll have me.”  
  
“Not to sound rude,” Sharena began, “but why would you? I mean, your kingdom just went through a bad war. Shouldn’t you be helping them rebuild?”  
  
Fjorm frowned. “Hrid is more than capable of handling that. I...I’ve spent so long searching for revenge against Surtr for what he did to my mother that I don’t know I can be a proper leader anymore.” She looked back at the duo. “Also, I...I still owe you my life, Summoner. I still owe you a great debt. If you’ll have me, I will stand at your side for the rest of my days.”  
  
The Summoner’s eyebrows shot up. “That...um...I mean...”  
  
Sharena grinned at him, then turned back to Fjorm. “We’d love to have you as a member of the Order, if you’re willing.”  
  
Fjorm smiled back. “I am.”  
  
“Then welcome aboard!” Sharena declared. She led Fjorm back to Anna and Alfonse, to explain the addition of their latest member, leaving the Summoner standing in the snow, still sputtering in surprise.

 


	55. Chapter 55

“So you are...me?” Veronica hesitantly asked. 

The other her – one that seemed a bit older and, dare she say, wiser than herself – turned from where she was brushing her horse. “I am. Sort of. I am also from another world, one where we were saved by Bruno and Askr. Where we never made an agreement with Surtr.”

Veronica frowned, turning slightly away. “I am...sorry I do not quite meet your expectations.”

“I am not accusing you,” the other Veronica hastily replied. “I am simply...I would have done the same, in your place. Which I nearly was, had circumstances been different.”

An awkward silence fell over them, the two trying to decide how to speak to the other. “My brother is probably looking for me,” the first finally said. “I should go.”

The other frowned. “Your brother...he loves you, yes?”

Veronica turned to her, startled. “Of course,” she said, startled. “He worked so hard to save me. To save us.”

Her alternate self turned and bit her lower lip. “Keep up that relationship. Make certain he doesn’t run away again.”

Veronica nodded slowly, still lost. “Of course.” She gazed at her a moment longer, then turned and walked away.

When she was gone, her alternate self finally allowed a tear to fall.


	56. Chapter 56

“What happens now?”

The two were standing just outside the Askran castle. The rest of the Order were, at last, returning, relieved to finally be home after so long. Alfonse could see the Summoner joking with Marth, Anna and Joshua speaking in hushed tones, the Kanas talking animatedly to an exhausted Grima. 

“Assuming your sister agrees,” the prince answered slowly, “we have peace and put an end to the war.”

“Were it so easy,” Bruno replied, shaking his head. “It takes more than that to end a war, and the Emblia nobility has had a taste of Askran blood. Even were Veronica willing to do more than withdraw her troops from the borders – tattered as those forces are after Surtr had his way with them – they might be more willing to call for a swift return to hostility.”

“It sounds like you two will have your work cut out for you, then,” Alfonse said, smiling. “I can’t think of anyone more capable to wrestle the Emblians back to peace.”

Bruno laughed this time, and gods, part of Alfonse had missed that sound. “I’m not much of one for politics. That was always more our parents’ arena.” He frowned. “And Loki is still out there, do not forget. Gods know what she could do, what chaos she could unleash.”

“If she shows up, we’ll deal with her,” Alfonse declared. “With this war over, the Order can spare more resources to hunt her down.”

Bruno arched a brow. “You sound very certain of that,” he replied. “I wish I had your confidence.”

“You have that and more, Bruno.” Alfonse almost put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but stopped himself, letting his arm fall back to his side. 

“Really?” Bruno frowned. He nodded his head at the alternate Veronica, helping to bring the horses and pegasi back to the stables. “The Summoner told me she comes from an alternate reality, one where...where I had come to you earlier about what plagues our family, and ended the war before it began. She comes from a world where I am much braver. Here, instead, I fled.” His teeth clenched. “I ran and hid and let everything around me fall to ruin. Because I was a coward.”

“Bruno…”

The other man shook his head. “Forgive me. These are my burdens, Prince Alfonse.” He started toward the castle entrance. “I should go find my sister. I shall see you later tonight.” Before Alfonse could stop him, he was gone. The Askran prince frowned, hands clenched. I just want to help you, he thought.

He was startled when someone slapped him on the shoulder. Sharena’s cheerful face popped into his view, but her face slightly fell when she saw the sullen look on her brother’s face. “Alfonse? Everything alright?”

He paused. “Bruno and Veronica have largely kept to themselves this whole time. Do you think they’ll go back to being our enemies?”

“What? After we saved their butts in Muspell? I doubt it.”

“I wish I shared your optimism,” Alfonse said, smiling slightly at her. “There’s a lot of bad blood between Askr and Emblia right now, and it’s ripe for someone to take advantage of.” He gave her a pointed look and added, “Such as Loki.”

Sharena frowned, then brightened. “So? That’s a problem for another day, bro! We beat Surtr and made peace with Muspell! Today’s a day for some R&R.” She grinned. “Come on!”

His sister’s enthusiasm infectious, Alfonse grinned back at her and followed back into the castle.


	57. Chapter 57

A sense of unease pervaded the castle as the Summoner led his latest recruit within. Hinoka’s hand tightened on her spear, stepping in front of Sakura. Xander and Camilla stood near the rear of the castle, silent as they observed. 

“This is the castle of the Order,” the Summoner said, painfully aware of the silent tension. “This is where we live when not in active combat.” He recalled Lucina’s reaction to him summoning Grima, and wished for her emotional outburst. The Heroes gathered now came from different worlds, and he was concerned about the Nohrians in particular. After all, in the World of Birthright they had stood fast with their father, King Garon of Nohr, right to the end. 

“Quaint,” the Nohrian commented, glancing distastefully around him. 

The Summoner had no reply. Looking up, he was glad to see Alfonse and Anna approaching, to introduce themselves and guide Garon to his quarters. But before the two Askrans could approach, they were intercepted by a newcomer that had come from one of the side entrances. 

“You!” Corrin snarled, jabbing a finger into her adoptive father’s chest. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Garon looked down at the other manakete, his expression unchanged. “Do I know you?”

“My name is Corrin,” the woman snapped. “The girl you kidnapped from Hoshido! How could you not remember that!?”

“Ah. The Corrin I remember was a male. He had cornered me in Krakenburg, and then...a light. And here I am.” He looked to the Summoner. “Are there any others from my world?”

“No, Father,” Xander said, finally stepping forward. Leo had turned up at some point, and he and Camilla stood on either side of Xander. “Some of the Hoshidans, perhaps, but I come from a world where my sister exposed your true self on the throne of Hoshido.” 

“And so you then decided to follow your conscience and betrayed me at last,” Garon replied. “You were always slow. You would be a failure as king.”

Xander’s eyes narrowed, but there was a certain hurt in them as well. Leo laid a restraining hand on his brother’s shoulder. Corrin watched this exchange quietly, then rounded on Garon. “And I from a world where we learned the truth of Anankos and Valla, and stopped both of you.”

Garon’s eyes briefly widened, and then he grinned. The Summoner inwardly shuddered; there was something unnatural about that grin. It had no place on such a man. “Clearly I kidnapped the wrong child. You are certainly much more brilliant than the counterpart I was stuck with.”

“That’s quite enough,” Alfonse finally said. “King Garon, I am Prince Alfonse of Askr. Beside me is the Commander of the Order of Heroes. While you are here, you will answer to us, as per the contract that binds you.”

The Summoner winced; he preferred a more peaceful explanation to the terms of the contract that bound the Heroes, but then again nicety would likely annoy Garon more than Alfonse’s bluntness. 

Garon’s face twisted into a sneer. “Very well. But do not mistake my acceptance for friendship.”

“I would never,” Alfonse responded, and gestured for the King of Nohr to follow. Once they were gone, the Summoner turned to the Nohrians and said, “Are you all alright?”

“If you’re worried about how we’ll handle Father’s presence, Summoner, don’t be,” Leo said. “Though I do not understand why we need to recruit more Heroes in light of Surtr’s defeat, I will trust your judgement.” 

“As will I,” Xander added. “If I have given you reason to believe otherwise, I apologize.”

“Oh no, you haven’t, Xander,” the Summoner replied, throwing up his hands in a placating gesture. “I just know from experience that things like this can be...complicated.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Corrin muttered.

“Don’t worry, Summoner,” Camilla said. “I think we’ve been anticipating Father’s arrival for a while now, especially after you summoned the likes of Walhart and Zelgius.”

The Summoner nodded. “Still, if any of you have concerns about this, don’t be afraid to voice them. And let the others from Hoshido and Nohr know this as well. We don’t know what’s going to happen between Askr and Emblia now, so I would prefer if everyone were of sound mind before something happens.”

The Nohrian royals – and Corrin – nodded at him before departing. Once he was alone, the Summoner groaned and slid a hand over his face. Gods, he needed a drink.


	58. Chapter 58

Fjorm found her sitting in the courtyard, a lily in her hand, idly picking at the pedals. There had been murmurs of surprise when the Summoner had brought her forth after yet another summoning session, sidelong glances. A few whispers of whether the Summoner was truly on Askr’s side anymore, if he was bringing forth enemy rulers and generals. 

But Fjorm was more open to the idea of her being here, and had sought her out. After all, they had agreed that were things different, they could’ve been friends…

But she had avoided her all the same, memories of her burning, melting form in her mind’s eye. Guilt, too, and sorrow that she could not have saved her as they had saved Laevatein. 

Laegjarn did not look up at Fjorm’s approach, but spoke all the same. “Come to accuse me?” she said. It was not an accusation, her tone flat and bored. “Go ahead. Say your piece.”

“I came to see if you are settling in well with the Order,” Fjorm replied, sitting beside her on the marble bench. Behind them was a massive fountain, recently commissioned by the royal family just a month before Nifl and Muspell barged into their conflict. 

The other huffed. “The Askran princess did the same not too long ago. I am well enough, and no, before you claim otherwise, I have no intention of betraying the Order.”

“What? I wasn’t going to!” The Nifl princess paused. “Have people been accusing you of such?”

“They have.” Laegjarn tore a petal off the lily, stared at it, then tossed it into the fountain behind her. “The Hoshidan ninja, for one. But it doesn’t matter. My father was always of the opinion that might makes right.”

“And look how well that worked for him,” Fjorm retorted, and was rewarded with a slight smile from the other princess. “If the other Heroes are giving you trouble, you can speak to Alfonse or Sharena or the Summoner. They’ll help sort it out.”

“I don’t need their help,” Laegjarn snapped, and Fjorm winced at the harshness of her tone. In a calmer voice, Laegjarn continued, “And even if I did, I doubt they will. Alfonse and the Summoner refuse to even speak with me, and Sharena is hard to pin down.”

“Really?” Fjorm replied, incredulous, but she recalled the argument between Laegjarn and the Summoner when this world’s version of her had been their prisoner. Would the Summoner really hold such a grudge, after everything during the war? Even though this version of Laegjarn was a completely different woman, pulled from another world? 

Laegjarn did not respond to that, save to crush the flower and toss the remains away. “Is there something you want? I mean no offense, but few enough have come to speak to me as kindly as you have.”

“I was just...hoping you and I could be friends.”

Laegjarn looked at her then, eyebrow raised. “Friends? Whatever for?”

Laegjarn’s burning face flashed through Fjorm’s mind, empty eye sockets gazing at her before succumbing to the power of fire. “Before you...passed...in this world, you said that had things been different, you and I could’ve been friends.” Fjorm reached into the bag she had brought with her, bringing out two wrapped bundles. “Here. I made these myself. They’re a sort of delicacy back in Nifl.”

Laegjarn stared at her for a long moment, then reached out and took one of the bundles. Unwrapping it, she stared at the food within for a long moment. “What is it?”

“It’s a type of bun using ingredients found only in Nifl. My mother and I would normally go out to the market and buy as many as we could, then spend the rest of the afternoon baking them with Ylgr for the whole family.” She smiled as she thought of those days, of Gunnthra’s warm, sleepy smile and Hrid’s silent demeanor, broken only by small, private smiles for her and Ylgr. She felt a pang of loss, but forced the emotions down. She would not break down in front of Laegjarn; the Muspell princess might view it as weakness and that would end all of Fjorm’s efforts to relate to her. “I made certain to gather as many of those ingredients as I could before the Order left Nifl.”

Hesitantly, Laegjarn took a bite out of the bun, chewing thoughtfully. She looked at Fjorm and swallowed. “It’s really good.”

“Thank you,” Fjorm replied, taking a bite out of her own. The two ate in companionable silence for a time, before Laegjarn finished and stood from the bench. “I thank you, Princess. I...appreciate the effort you’ve made.”

“Of course,” Fjorm said, unsure if she was referring to the food or the conversation. “And please, you may call me Fjorm.”

“I...shall try, Pri—Fjorm.” Laegjarn seemed to shake herself, then said, “I should check on my wyvern. I think her scales need cleaning. I will see you...later, I suppose.”

“Later, then,” Fjorm replied as Laegjarn made her way of the courtyard. As Fjorm brushed herself off and rose, she was seized by another bout of harsh coughing, bending down from the force of it. Once it passed, she took a deep breath and stood, making sure no one was around to have seen that. As far as the Summoner and royals knew, the worst of the sickness had passed, and she would soon recover from the Rite of Frost. She intended to keep them all in the dark for as long as she could. Especially the Summoner. Especially Laegjarn.


	59. Chapter 59

Morgan was skipping rocks at a nearby lake when Lucina found her. The dark flier was alone, save for her pegasus that grazed not too far away. A magical tome laid unopened on the ground as Morgan flicked her wrist and the rock skipped across the water. 

“That’s impressive,” Lucina said, and then nearly jumped out of her skin when Morgan shrieked. The other girl spun too quickly to face her, her foot slipping on a smooth rock, and suddenly Morgan hit the water with a massive splash. 

“Morgan!” Lucina exclaimed, racing to the shore. She couldn’t see the other girl anywhere; could she not swim? The princess of Ylisse was preparing to dive in and rescue her when a hand shot out of the water and grabbed her ankle, and suddenly Lucina found herself splashing heavily into the water as well. She flailed, making her way back to the surface. Her head broke the water just in time to see Morgan floating nearby, head reared back, laughing. 

“I can’t believe it! I got you! I got you!” Morgan gasped between laughs. Lucina stared at her for a long moment, dumbfounded. “The daughter of Chrom, defeated by the tactician’s brilliant daughter. And the crowd goes wild!”

“It...you faked that?” 

“Oh no,” Morgan replied, taking deep breaths as her laughter subsided. “You did startle me, and I did slip and fall into the water. But as I started swimming back up, I realized you’d try and rescue me. So I simply waited for you to get closer and pulled you under myself.” She chuckled. “And it worked like a charm!”

Lucina rolled her eyes as she started swimming back to the shoreline. Morgan followed, still sniggering under her breath. As the two pulled themselves out of the water, Lucina heard Morgan moan. “Ah man, my pegasus is gone!” 

Lucina looked over and saw that she was right. The commotion must have startled it, and as a result it fled. “Do we need to look for it?” she asked.

“No. Cordelia and Caeda train all the pegasuses – pegasi? – to return to the castle if they fly off. She’ll make it back, sooner or later. She may already be there.” She groaned. “But I was hoping I could fly back on her and dry off. Now I have to slog back to the castle in these wet boots.”

“It’s not that far,” Lucina pointed out.

“Have you ever walked any distance in wet boots?” Morgan retorted.

“Yes,” was the reply. “When it would rain or we had to ford a stream, we’d have to endure wet boots since we couldn’t afford to stop and let them dry, lest the Risen ambush us.”

“Oh.” Morgan looked embarrassed. “Sorry. Forgot that was a thing. The apocalypse, that is.”

“It’s alright. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.” Now Lucina felt awful. “Still, standing around won’t dry us off any faster. Shall we start back?”

“Yeah,” Morgan sighed, scooping up the tome and starting after Lucina. 

The two walked silently for a moment before Lucina spoke up. “You know, part of me envies you.”

“Really? What could the great legendary hero princess of the future envy me about?”

“That you could forget the whole ordeal. Everything we Shepherd children endured in that time.” She decided not to mention how, even after all this time and that she had saved the future, Lucina still often awoke in a cold sweat, images of a massive winged monster and its army of the damned still howling in her memories. “I still don’t understand how that’s possible. Everyone else didn’t suffer the same fate.”

“My male counterpart – which just sounds weird when I say it like that – told me that he suffered the same thing. And so did Dad, remember? Your dad found him lying in a field without his memories.”

Lucina nodded. “And yet your amnesia doesn’t bother you?”

“Nope! I know that’s weird, but...I get this sense of...I don’t know. It feels like I’m better off forgetting? If that makes sense? Like things were bad for me in that time. Really bad. And besides, without those memories I have much more room in my head for new experiences, right?”

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Lucina admitted. “You were much the same way in our time, too.”

“Really? What was I like?”

Lucina thought to how they had found Morgan, starved and withered in a Grimleal enclave. The Grimleal had been revering her for reasons that hadn’t been apparent until Lucina realized what her father truly was. Morgan had attacked them ferociously, and it taken both Kjelle and Gerome to pin her down long enough for Brady to heal her wounds and knock her out. She had been only twelve. It was months before Morgan would start doing more than eating rations, and still more before she began befriending the other Shepherds. But when her walls came down, she had been a bright, friendly girl, a much needed ray of sunshine in a bleak timeline. 

“You were hopeful, even when events would discourage such emotions. You did everything you could to follow in your father’s footsteps, becoming a great tactician and helping save as many lives as possible.”

Morgan nodded, biting her lower lip in thought. “I get the feeling you aren’t telling me everything. That’s how I felt when I asked everyone else, too.” Before Lucina could respond, she grinned and continued, “Still, as I said I feel like that’s for the best.”

Lucina nodded. “Yes. I don’t like keeping secrets, but if that’s how you feel…”

“It is. Don’t worry, Lucy; I won’t press you for details until I feel like I’m ready for them.”

The two had reached main gate into the castle proper, where the reason she’d gone looking for Morgan in the first place stood. “Ah, Morgan!” Robin called. “Leo, Soren, and I were about...to...” The white-haired tactician stared at the two of them, soaked to the bone and leaving a long trail of dripping water behind them. “Do I even want to know?”

The two girls exchanged glances, then grinned back at him. “Probably not,” Morgan replied. To Lucina, she added, “Thanks for talking with me. I feel like we don’t do that enough.” With a short wave, Morgan linked arms with her father – who didn’t seem bothered by his coat getting wet in the least – and the two began talking animatedly about the tactical game she had been invited to. Lucina glanced down at her clothes, then began making her way to her room to change, carefully ignoring all the stares the other Heroes leveled at her as she made her way there. 

At her room, she found Ike and Chrom standing outside her door. The two glanced her way, then stared for a long moment as Lucina approached. “Hello, Father. Sir Ike. How can I help you?”

“We...had a sparring session scheduled for today, with Prince Alfonse.” Chrom stared at her soaked form. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Perfectly alright, Father,” Lucina replied. “I’ll need a few minutes to change and dry myself off.”

“We’ll wait for you at the sparring circle, then,” Ike replied, doing his best not to stare too hard at her. Slinging Ragnell over his shoulder, he hastily beat a retreat down the hall. 

“Robin mentioned he sent you to find his daughter,” Chrom said. “Did she…?”

“As I said,” Lucina answered, “it’s perfectly alright.” Smiling brightly at him, she opened the door and slipped inside.


	60. Chapter 60

It was at the end of his life that Surtr finally reflected on his life, pondering everything that had brought him to this point. To die on the end of the ice princess’ spear. 

He was the middle child of three. His older sister was in line to assume the throne after their father’s passing, proven time and time again in the Volcano, the annual arena tournament that determined the strongest warrior in Muspell. Surtr had always envied her, but he kept these emotions to himself. His sister’s temper was as hot as their homeland, and as explosive. 

His younger brother, by contrast, was quiet, unassuming. He rarely spent time with either of his warrior siblings, and as a result Surtr barely acknowledged him. What sort of warrior spent time with books and not a blade? Sometimes he and his sister would mock him, in the few moments of civility the two ever shared. 

And then their brother practically destroyed everyone in the Volcano one year when Surtr was sixteen, demolishing the opposition – including their sister – with spells the likes of which Surtr had never seen. His parents, once rarely acknowledging the existence of his brother, now sang his praises in the mead halls, hailing him as the greatest magician the land had seen in centuries. 

But while his sister held prowess in combat and his brother in magicks, Surtr was truly proficient in neither. Oh, he had a strong swing in his arm and a decent wit, as befitting a Muspell royal, but time and again both his siblings trounced him. He could not defeat his sister in single combat, nor could he match his brother in a game of wits. Soon it was he his parents would barely acknowledge, the one left behind during diplomatic visits to Nifl. 

It was during one of these departures that he encountered her. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back, tipped at the ends with a deep black that reminded him of a shoreline beside a river of lava. She was a nobleman’s daughter, quiet and unassuming. But there was a cleverness behind her eyes, a ruthlessness that Surtr respected, even desired. 

One evening he spoke to her, desiring her name, and she introduced herself as Sinmara. Like Surtr, she was frequently passed over in favor of her more beautiful sister, and wanted nothing more than to see her buried beneath the dirt. Resentment was a cup they had both drunk from, and in that they found companionship. Long nights were spent discussing the downfall of their families, in proving once and for all they were superior. 

It was during one of these discussions that Sinmara revealed something she had recently discovered in the royal library. She spoke of the Muspellflame, which would turn one immune to attack. According to the text, she claimed, the seal was kept deep beneath the castle. Facing great trials, the two emerged triumphant and emerged with the Muspellflame, and using it, Surtr challenged his sister to a fight and soundly destroyed her. Presenting her head to his father, he bellowed his right to assume the throne, and his father was forced to concede this. Soon after, Sinmara’s sister was hideously marred by flame, her skin turning blackened and broken by an “unknown assailant.” 

None of this sat well with Surtr’s brother, who researched and then exposed Surtr’s possession of the Muspellflame. However, when he did so, Surtr wiped out the rest of his family and took the throne at the age of twenty-three, taking Sinmara as his consort. It was then he began a great conquest, sweeping aside the neighboring kingdoms until only Nifl stood against him. It was during this time that he had two daughters, Laegjarn and Laevatein, and a great axe he named after his consort. 

Eventually, however, Surtr’s lust for power began to drive him mad. Like the flame, he lusted only for destruction. Sinmara began to fear for herself and her two daughters, especially once the king brought on a new adviser, a tall woman calling herself Loki. She did not trust this stranger to Muspell, who whispered things into Surtr’s ear. One night, Sinmara attempted to flee the castle with her daughters, but was foiled by Loki and executed by her consort. 

Surtr’s upbringing of his daughters grew harsh and cruel. Lashings for failure were not uncommon. Loki would delight herself in taunting the both of them, reminded them often of their mother’s sudden betrayal of their father and what happened to her. Laegjarn worked hard to grow strong, to please their father and protect Laevatein from Surtr’s wrath. Laegjarn hated their father, but Loki often reminded her of just how easy it would be for the adviser to snap her sister’s neck. 

And then came the invasion of Nifl, at long last, and the destruction of the great kingdom. And as the castle was brought to ruin, Loki vanished, claiming to know of another world that Surtr could unleash his wrath upon. When she returned many months later, she came with a girl named Veronica, princess of an empire at war with a kingdom called Askr. That this girl could not have defeated Askr on her own told Surtr much about her lack of capabilities, but regardless he made a deal with her, to provide Muspell troops and assist her in destroying Askr. 

And what a kingdom! Green as far as the eye could see, majestic castle climbing high into the sky. It would please Surtr greatly to see it all burn. 

And look what it has landed you. As Surtr felt his life leech from him, a part of him felt pleased. The flames of vengeance burned in the ice princess’ eyes, flames so similar to his. He knew that the fires he had stoked throughout the land would not be quenched with his death. 

And so Surtr, a flame so hot he burned everything he touched, passed from this world. Ironically, his last thoughts were of how cold he felt as he passed.


	61. Chapter 61

“I’m very tired of your rivalry lately,” the Summoner said, hands folded before him as he sat behind his desk. Flanking him were Hector and Ike, both with their arms folded over their chests as they gazed at the two cross individuals sitting before the desk. “At first it was relatively harmless,” he went on. “Some broken china there, some hurt feelings there. But it’s gotten too out of control.” He held up one finger. “First there was the journal. Too many of our resident children read it and wound up in intensive care before I could block their memories of the whole thing. Then Lon’qu came to me to complain that your arguments have been keeping him up at night. And then there was” – and here he shuddered – “the War of the Feathers.”

Everyone else in the room winced as well. It was rumored that Feh had yet to regrow all of her feathers, but refused to let anyone else see. 

“As you can see, I am tired of all this. So here’s how it’ll go. You two apologize here and now, and end this pathetic rivalry once and for all.”

“But she started all of it!” Kana exclaimed. “She said her papa was better and stronger than my Papa!”

“Isn’t he?” Morgan retorted. “How many times have we been over this? When was the last time the Summoner brought your father into battle?”

“So? When was the last time he brought your papa into battle?”

Morgan and Kana exchanged glares. The Summoner rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache coming on. “Alright, how about this? Either your rivalry ends, or I tell your fathers who was really behind the War of the Feathers.” 

Both girls turned their gazes toward him, now wide-eyed and frightened. “You wouldn’t dare,” Morgan hissed. 

The Summoner smiled. “I would. The safety and stability of the Order is my priority, and your feud is causing more problems than when I summoned the Bunny Sharena.” He shook his head. “That is my ultimatum. Settle it now, or your fathers settle it for you. The choice is yours.”

Morgan and Kana exchanged glances. A long moment of silence passed, their gazes conveying more than words possibly could. Then, through gritted teeth, Kana said, “I’m...sorry...I hurt your feelings, Morgan.”

“Thank you, Kana,” Morgan replied, teeth also grinding. “I also apologize for everything I’ve done.”

Another moment of silence. “Alright, I suppose that’ll have to do,” the Summoner finally said. “You two are on kitchen duty for the next week for all this. I’ll let Anna know to change the duty roster to reflect that. Go on, now.” 

As Morgan and Kana left, the Summoner gestured for Hector and Ike to sit in the vacant chairs for a discussion on the training of the latest recruits. As the girls stepped out into the hall, and once the door was shut behind them, Morgan rounded on Kana and said, “Let’s make one thing clear. No matter what I may say in the presence of others, my dad is better than yours any day.”

“No, mine is!” Kana declared, glaring as fiercely as she could.

“I can still hear you out there!” the Summoner shouted, making both jump. “Don’t make me add latrine duty!” With a final glare shared between them, the two girls parted ways, minds already plotting how to turn all this to their advantage…


	62. Chapter 62

“Alfonse,” the Summoner whispered. “I can’t go on much longer.”

“You’re being overdramatic,” Alfonse retorted. “It’s not that bad.”

“I’m with the Summoner on this,” Anna whispered back. “All these...vegetables...fruits...”

“We need meat,” the Summoner concurred. 

“Sharena has a point,” Alfonse said. “We’ve grown too reliant on meat after our campaign in Nifl. Restricting ourselves to a vegetarian diet will help us grow stronger in the long term. Besides, if we hunt anymore the animal population might be irreparably damaged.” 

“But...Alfonse, picture it...a beautiful, succulent steak...” the Summoner moaned.

But the prince of Askr would not be deterred. “Sharena’s vegetable diet or nothing,” he replied sternly.

Anna groaned. “If we wind up running out of rations again before the next Harvest Festival, I’m pinning the blame on you two,” she snapped, devouring a mouthful of the stew Sharena had prepared. 

“Same,” the Summoner added, mirroring her actions. The two shared a quick high-five before Sharena joined them at the table, carrying another pot of vegetable stew. “Who’s up for seconds?” she said. 

The Summoner and Anna forced smiles on their faces. When neither sibling were paying attention, Anna murmured, “I think we need to ask Niles to help us set up an underground network of meat.”

“I’ll ask him later,” the Summoner whispered back. The two exchanged their secret handshake, then turned and readied themselves for another meal. It wasn’t bad, they had to admit. But their regular meals had been interrupted. If a greater crime had ever been committed in the Order, they did not know of it.


	63. Chapter 63

“What even is this.”

The Summoner had been resting peacefully in his bed after a long day of designing his Halloween costume, when Myrrh and Kana had come bounding inside, shaking him awake. According to them, Grima had done something bad, and they didn’t think she’d listen to anyone but the Summoner. He had brought Alm along, hoping that if things became bad he’d use Falchion to smack some sense into Grima.

And so here he was, clad in his robe and pjs, holding a steaming mug and looking at the massive field the two manaketes had brought him to. The field was alive with movement, but not with people. At least, not people as he understood it. Hovering over this mass was Grima, grinning as she used her powers to draw more out of the ground, moaning and reaching for her like a church reaching for god. Which was a pretty apt comparison, considering what the Summoner had read on the World of Awakening and what created the undead creatures known as Risen. 

“Grima,” the Summoner began, taking in a deep breath. “What are you doing?”

The possessed tactician glanced at him, still grinning. “How do you like my Halloween party, Summoner? Pretty...frightening, wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s something, alright,” he sighed. “Could you please come down? I don’t want to have to shout to talk to you. Hurts my throat.”

Grima rolled her eyes but did as he asked. The Risen she had already revived remained where they were, but their red, undead eyes traced her path as she flew to the group that gathered over the field. Myrrh backed away slightly, but Kana remained by his side. Alm’s grip on his sword remained tight. 

“Is this better?” Grima asked when she’d reached them. 

“Much,” the Summoner replied. “Now what are you doing? We made it a rule to not revive the dead.”

“Henry said that Halloween has a sort of custom…something called ‘Trick or Treat?’” She shrugged. “I’m uncertain what the treat is, but Morgan told me that it’s something very ‘delicious.’ So I created some Risen so that if they will not give me a treat, I can give them a...trick.” She grinned, petting the Feh doll he’d given her a while back. 

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the coming headache. “You’d use the Risen to do...what? Burn down the village if they won’t part with their candy?”

“Ye – wait, what? Candy?” All of a sudden, Grima’s grin faded from her face. “That’s what the ‘treat’ is?” She growled in frustration, and with a harsh gesture of her arm, the Risen suddenly burrowed back beneath the field. “I can’t believe it. Candy. I’m going to kill Morgan when next I see her.”

“No you won’t,” the Summoner replied, taking a sip of his mug.

“No I won’t,” Grima agreed, frowning. “I’ll just make her life miserable.”

“That won’t be hard. She’s still mad she lost the last Voting Gauntlet to Lilina. All it takes is a little bit of salt.”

Grima rolled her eyes, then took off over their heads for the castle. The Summoner turned back to the three behind him and said, “Myrrh, Kana, get rid of all the bodies beneath this field. Burn them, drown them, whatever. I don’t want Grima to have a Risen army beneath our feet.” As the two manaketes transformed and set to work, he turned to Alm. “Keep an eye on Morgan, will you? If Grima gets too violent, stop her.” 

“All right,” Alm replied, nodding. “But everyone wants to hurt Morgan. Do you want me to stop them too?”

“Not unless they get too violent. I have a bet with Anna and Joshua on how long it takes before her pranks catch up with her.”

“I thought bets were --”

“Shhhhhhh.” The Summoner pressed a finger against his lips. “The Summoner is sleepy, so now I’m going back to bed. Good night.” Dumping the rest of the mug’s contents into the ground, the Summoner set off for the castle as Myrrh and Kana destroyed the field and the Risen below. His main thought was having a talk with Henry about talking traditions with an apocalyptic dragon, before the dark wizard got any ideas.


	64. Chapter 64

Months had gone by after Surtr's defeat. Askr slowly began to heal its wounds from the tyrant's burning touch, and the Summoner was pleased when Embla troops withdrew from the Askran border. Veronica had agreed to a truce, but not peace; when the lands were healed, she would likely invade once again. The Summoner did not find this prospect pleasing, but at least Askr had a chance to lick their wounds. 

The day had been long, filled with meetings and work and more meetings. The Summoner sagged into his seat, pulling down his hood. Man, was he tired. He was looking forward to resting for the remainder of the night, and hopefully he'd wake up early enough that he'd be able to enjoy some time reading before he had to get back to work. 

He stiffened when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his torso, and a voice breathe into his ear. "Welcome home."  
  
The Summoner yelped and fell forward, and the other released him to avoid joining him on the floor. Whipping around, the Summoner's eyes narrowed. "Oh. Loki."  
  
"Is that any way to greet me? I'm hurt, Summoner. I thought you were a gentleman."

"What are you doing here? How'd you get in?"  
  
"It's very easy for someone who can look like anyone," Muspell's tactician replied. "As for the why, I was hoping I could give you an offer."  
  
"Oh?" The Summoner had no intention of agreeing to any offer she had to offer, but he needed to stall until he saw an opening to escape. Loki was a powerful mage; she'd be able to take him down before he got more than a few steps, and they both knew it. 

"I want you to come with me."  
  
That took him aback. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Oh, don't be so surprised. I don' want...what's coming to kill you like it will everyone and everything else."  
  
"What's coming?" The Summoner rose to his feet. "What do you mean? Is Veronica making a move? Laevatein following in her dad's footsteps? Some big dragon coming down to cook us a poisoned dinner?"  
  
Loki chuckled. "Of course not. And I can't tell you. It'll spoil the surprise." She smiled, one of her sly, cruel smiles that she had used to taunt them so much in Muspell. "Let's just say that the dead are somewhat... _restless_ these days."  
  
"If something's coming, I should be with my friends."  
  
She sighed. "Of course. I knew you'd say that. I figured I would at least ask so when everyone dies I can at least say I tried."  
  
"We could probably win if you'd just tell us what's coming."  
  
"I could." She pursed her lips. "But then the people who  _shouldn't_ survive will. Death's scythe hangs over your friends and your Order, Summoner. You should be thinking about surviving, not winning."   
  
"Some could've said the same about us defeating Surtr, and look how that turned out."  
  
"Only because you had help. Much help." She stepped around his chair and toward him. "Like mine."

The Summoner took a step back, which was a mistake because Loki rewarded him with another mocking smirk. "You only helped us for your own ends."

"Yes. And they do not involve you dying, Summoner. Not if it can be avoided."

"Let me guess. Because you need my power over Heroes?"  
  
"No." And this time Loki seemed almost genuine with her hurt. "Breidablik and the Heroes do not factor in at all. And even if they did, what could I do with them?" When the Summoner did not answer, Loki continued, "I'll ask once more. Come with me."

But the Summoner shook his head, thinking of Alfonse and Sharena and Anna and Fjorm. "No. I'm staying here."  
  
"A shame. But we will see each other again, Summoner. Count on it." Smiling and winking, Loki suddenly vanished from view. Once he was certain she was gone, the Summoner sagged, calling out for the guards. He gathered up his robe; between reporting to the royals and the Commander, as well as scouring for any sign of Loki, he knew he was in for another long night. 


	65. Chapter 65

“Doing alright, Eir?”

It was always her name that the Summoner used, Eir noticed. Never “prisoner” or “spy” or “enemy.” To him she was simply Eir. This was strange, she noted, for she was all those things. 

The two were in the castle gardens. The ones known as Alfonse, Anna, and Gustav were speaking in the throne room over combat strategies against her mother’s legions; a pointless endeavor, she knew. How could the limits of the living overcome the boundless potential of the dead? Such was her mother’s belief, at least. Eir found it hard to disagree, but…

The Order was something, Eir thought, Hela had not anticipated. 

From the shadows she knew three ninja were watching her every move, waiting for her to make one wrong move against the Summoner. Kagero, Saizo, and Kaze were their names, she recalled. And yet the Summoner did not seem to notice they were there. How could he not, though? Did he not ask them to be there? Did he not ask for protection; did he not mistrust her?

And there were others, she knew. There was the blue-haired woman that fought for her future. There was the princess of ice with Death’s scent emanating from her. There was the large man and his cursed axe, the one that called herself the Wings of Despair, the Hero-King and the mercenary and the priestess. They should not be able to work together, to be able to stand in the same room without falling to bickering, and yet, somehow, against all odds, the Summoner drew them all together and turned them into a force to be reckoned with, something to stand against even the fiery legions of Surtr. 

And he did it without even realizing it. He simply acted kind, simply offered a hand to those others would’ve ignored, and everything else simply...worked out. It was impossible, and yet it was right before her. Askr was not their home; the Summoner was not of any of their worlds, and yet they would fight tooth and nail to protect both regardless.

Did this truly make them Heroes? Perhaps. Eir would never match up to them. And yet the Summoner allowed her to fight alongside them anyway, calling her an important part of the Order. She was no Hero – she was the enemy – and he trusted her all the same. 

And she trusted him too. Trusted him in a way she had not to any other, not those in her mother’s court of Death, nor any of the spirits that were consigned to the realm of the dead. She would protect him as well. 

“I am well, Summoner,” Eir replied. “Quite well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eir is quite the intriguing character, wouldn't you say?


	66. Chapter 66

_Two years._

 

The Summoner stared at the rolling landscape beyond the Order castle, alone on the balcony outside his personal chambers. Snow had fallen several weeks before, covering the land in a blanket of white, and a new snow had begun falling only a short while ago. He caught scattered sightings of various members of the Order enjoying themselves in the snow; he glimpsed Fae, Myrrh, and Nino doing their best to build an army of snowmen with the occasional assistance of Ninian and Eliwood. And over there, Eirika, Ephraim, and Lyon had gone from simply walking in the snow to pelting each other with snowballs. One errant snowball flew from Ephraim's hand, sailed over his sister's head, and struck a passing Tharja in the head, who immediately repaid the favor by tossing fireballs at them before Robin calmed her down and reasoned that snowballs would be more debilitating to them in the long run. As the two mages joined the fray, they passed the gathering of the three Nifl royals. Hrid and Ylgr had come to Askr after the Winter Festival to spend the coming New Year with their sister, and the three were enjoying the snowy weather together. An invitation had been extended to Laevatein in Muspell, but the Summoner had no idea whether the last Muspell royal would even acknowledge it. 

 

His mouth quirked as he thought of the long campaign in the realm of fire. He had kept it from everyone, but quietly he had feared that he would die before Surtr was defeated. After all, the tyrant had slaughtered so many, _burned_ this world's version of Fjorm's eldest sister, Gunnthra, and was completely invincible to even the power of the Order's own Fell Dragon. How could they -- could _he,_ with the puny little Breidablik? -- stand against such a monster?

 

_Two years_.

 

The Summoner pushed away from the balcony and made his way back into his chambers, where a small fire was still burning in the fireplace. He sat down before it, stretching out his hands to bring back some warmth. Two years. Two years ago he had been just walking down the street, making his way downtown, when there was a flash of light and suddenly there he was, standing in front of a woman with red hair and carrying an axe, protecting him from encroaching enemy forces. Two years ago he had been ripped from his world, everything he had known, and plopped into a world and a war he had nothing to do with.

 

He glanced over at the nightstand beside his bed, where the weapon that chose him laid on its side. Breidablik. It still looked the same as when Anna first summoned him into this world, though in some lights it still held an ice blue sheen from the power Gunnthra had given her life to bestow upon it. The only thing that had been able to dispel Surtr's flames. The Summoner had been afraid when they had confronted him in his castle, when he had lifted his weapon and fired it at the tyrant of flames. Would it even work? Or would the flames just absorb the blast as it had all things, and everyone and everything around him would die screaming as the flames burned them alive, their skin blistering and boiling and their eyes--

 

The Summoner shook himself. Even now, so many months after Surtr's demise, he still awoke sweating from those nightmares. He hadn't told Sharena or Anna or Alfonse about them. No need to concern them. Dreams were just dreams, after all. Weren't they?

  
Still, he shied back from the fireplace just a bit, folding his warmer hands back into his cloak. Two years since he'd seen his world, and now he had done so much more than he'd ever done there. He wondered if anyone even missed him there, if anyone had even noticed his disappearance. He knew he'd had friends, but he wasn't sure if they were _good_ friends, not like the ones he had here. Not like the Askran royals or Fjorm or the many Heroes he had pulled into Zenith. He had to sometimes concentrate now to recall definite features. 

 

_Two years_.

 

A knock on the door pulled him from his brooding, and he pulled open the door to reveal Alfonse and Sharena standing there. "There you are, Summoner!" Sharena exclaimed. "We were wondering where you were!"

 

"The Commander wants us to join her for a trip to the village," Alfonse explained.

  
The Summoner groaned. "What scheme does she have planned this time?"  
  


"The shopping kind. Apparently one of her sisters is passing through, and the Commander wants to try and _pressure_ some deals off her."

 

The Summoner shrugged. "Well, even a trainwreck has a certain beauty to it," he said as he pulled his wool scarf closer around him and closed his door behind him.

 

Sharena beamed. "You're wearing the scarf I made you!"

 

The Summoner returned her look. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"  
  


Sharena wrapped her arms around the Summoner as the three set off for the main hall, where Anna was waiting. As the two royals began chatting with him, the Summoner retained a slight smile as his grin faded. Two years. Some might miss going home. But to him? _This_ was home.

 


	67. Chapter 67

"Welcome, Summoner."

 

She found herself standing before a large archway, etched with strange designs and glowing a haunting violet. She took a step back, feeling uneasy. A moment ago, she had been fighting Loki and a few Muspell soldiers...and then...

 

"You are confused. That is not unusual. Many of the dead have difficulty recalling their final moments."

 

The Summoner felt a chill run up her spine as she whipped around. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

 

"You stand before the entrance to Hel, the realm of the dead." From beyond the archway stepped a young woman, her long white hair flowing down her back and garbed in all black. The Summoner wondered if she was unarmed before noticing the glint of a dagger up her sleeve. "I am Eir, princess of the realm of the dead."

 

The Summoner glared. "I'm not dead."

 

Eir gestured around them. "Our surroundings say otherwise."

 

She turned to look, and finally beheld the area around them. Tall trees arched for a blood-red sky like claws, trunks blackened and withered, while the ground was bare and decayed. Every breath the Summoner took was exhaled in a breath of cold air, and yet she did not feel the bitter bite of freezing air. She turned back to Eir, suddenly unsettled. "Quite lying and tell me where we are." Her voice betrayed her unease, sounding small in the face of Eir and her level gaze. She pressed a hand against her head as a memory slammed against it, demanding, _begging_ for her to recall it.

 

"You died in the fires of Askr," Eir said. "You were slain by the people who follow the Tyrant of Fire, the last of the realm's true generals."

 

" _No_..." she gasped, even as she saw herself swinging her sword at Loki, no, not hers, _Alfonse'_ s sword, Folkvangr, all she had left of him. She saw herself being stopped by one of the Muspellians, shoved away, attacked, all of them surrounding her, Loki's mocking laugh...

 

And then white-hot pain as the axe came down on her head.

 

And then nothing.

 

And then here.

 

The Summoner screamed, a wordless, pathetic sound as the truth came before her. As she sunk to her knees, Eir continued, "Askr is no more. A few handfuls of its people are all that remain. It will go the way of Nifl, and burn forever." Eir frowned. "A sad fate."

 

"What would you know of that?" the Summoner spat.

 

Eir gazed at her for a moment. "Someone here has spoken much of Askr and its people. He has been a...very agreeable companion ever since he arrived, and what has happened to Askr and what will happen to Embla soon saddens him."

 

"Who?" the Summoner demanded.   
  


Eir gestured to the archway behind her. "Come. I will take you to my mother."  
  


"I'm not going anywhere!" the Summoner snarled. "I need to go back out there. I need to save Askr! I need to stop Surtr!"

 

"You cannot stop anything," Eir explained. "You are dead." When the Summoner only glared at her, she continued, "If you remain here, you will never pass on. You will become a revenant, haunting this place forever, like so many others that refused to pass on. Your mind will slowly, gradually descend into madness until all that is left of you is a maddened, broken thing not even my mother can use."

 

The Summoner paused. "And what else can I do?" she finally said, recalling the burned, broken bodies of Fjorm, Alfonse, Sharena, Anna. "Letting myself pass on just feels like...giving up."  
  
  
Eir did not reply. The Summoner's shoulders fell, then nodded. "But what else can I do? I've already failed everyone else."

 

Slowly, she forced herself to move, one foot in front of the other. Eir fell into step beside her, and slowly the two passed into the realm of the dead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A follow-up to an earlier short I wrote a long while back.


	68. Chapter 68

Being Queen of Muspell was never something she'd asked for.

 

As the latest -- and, hopefully,  _final_ \-- supplicants departed, Leavatein slumped in her throne, sighing. The obsidian throne was uncomfortable, built for someone twice her size. The massive, almost volcanic throne room was massive, barely possessing any of the scars the Order had left when they'd slain her father two months before.

 

_When they had slain her sis--_

 

Leavatein bit down hard on her lower lip, allowing the pain to stop that thought in its tracks. Laegjarn was gone, and no amount of loathing was going to bring her back. She doubted Laegjarn would want her to blame Nifl or Askr for her death anyway. 

 

But then, who else could she blame? After all, it had been the Order of Heroes that had invaded, that had led to her sister exchanging her life for Leavatein's, that had led to the battle that ultimately claimed her sister's life. Leaving her alone, to rule a country that hated her, the reminder of Surtr's mad and tyrannical fist. And she did not know how to change their mind. She recalled the troops home from Nifl and Embla, and she was rewarded with suspicion, that she was plotting something against the people of Muspell. _Like father, like daughter_ were the whispers they thought she couldn't hear.

 

Abruptly she stood, stepping from the throne. She couldn't handle being near it anymore. Not for the first time, she pondered destroying it. Replacing it with something more to _her_ size.

 

She was drawn from her thoughts when she heard someone approach, and she looked to the door to see perhaps her only trusted general. "Helbindi," she said.

 

"Your Majesty," he returned, voice flat. She'd thought her father had killed him for rescuing the princesses of Nifl and Embla from the Rite of Flames. As it turned out, Surtr had decided that killing him would "be a waste of effort," and spared him only so that he'd be able to witness Ylgr being sacrificed to the flames. When that was done, and Surtr had seen Helbindi's spirit break, would be when Surtr finished him off. And since that had never come to pass, Helbindi offered his services to the new Muspell Queen.

 

" _Why_?" Leavatein had asked. " _Laegjarn was right. You have no reason to serve us._ "

 

Helbindi had shrugged. " _Ain't got nothin' else left_ ," he'd said, and that had been that.

 

"You've got visitors," Helbindi was saying.

 

"Who?" Leavatein replied, already resigning herself to the throne.

 

Helbindi smirked. "Think you'll like this one better than the sheep you usually deal with, Your Highness." Gesturing for her to follow, Helbindi led Leavatein out of the throne room and toward a reception area established for foreign dignitaries.

 

Leavatein frowned. If it was the Summoner again, she had no intention of dealing with him. He, Prince Alfonse, and Princess Fjorm had come on occasion, offering to help Leavatein rebuild Muspell and establish her position as ruler. Each time, she had refused. She would stand on a pedestal of her own making, or not at all. Anything less would not win the respect of her people.

 

Helbindi held open the door for her, and Leavatein entered to come face-to-face with the King of Nifl.

 

"I'm sorry I've come on such short notice, Your Majesty," Hrid was saying. "I would've sent word, but many of my people are afraid to come to Muspell." He gestured to the bodyguard that hovered in a corner. "Even she thought this was a bad idea."

Leavatein barely spared the woman a glance. Clad in the blue and white of Nifl, Eliva had long served as a bodyguard of the royal family. Quiet and unassuming, she had remained in Hrid's presence ever since the end of the war, and was always somewhere during diplomatic visits. Enough that Leavatein barely spared her a thought now. "It's quite alright, Your Majesty," Leavatein replied. "Have you come with either of your sisters?"

 

Hrid shook his head. "Ylgr is spending the Winter Festival with Fjorm."

 

"I see," Leavatein replied slowly. This did not make sense. She knew Fjorm spent much of her time in Askr now; wouldn't Hrid be overjoyed that his sister had returned for the Festival? If Laegjarn were here--

 

Again, she stopped that thought in its tracks. She had to remain diplomatic here.

 

"In fact, that's why I'm here," Hrid said. "I'd like to personally extend an invitation for you to join us in Nifl for the Winter Festival."

 

Leavatein's brain stopped in its tracks as she felt her face warm. "I...um...I--"

 

"Your Majesty!" Eliva spoke up, silver eyes wide. "I don't think that's such a good idea, with relations between our nations the way they are."

 

"That's precisely why I've invited her," Hrid replied. "We won't repair relations between Muspell and Nifl by dancing around the subject. By having our royal families celebrate the Festival together, it could serve as a beacon for our peoples."

 

"Or cause a panic among the populace," his bodyguard retorted. "Too many still remember the slaughter Surtr performed on our people, and many still grieve for the loss of Princess Gunnthra."

 

Leavatein winced, but it was Helbindi who spoke up. "And it was Surtr who killed her. And it was her sister who avenged her." Helbindi narrowed his eyes. "'Sides, Laegjarn kept the peace in Nifl when Surtr went to set fires in Askr, and I don't remember  _her_ slaughterin' people for the hell of it."

 

Eliva seemed to bristle at that. "Perhaps not, but she was still a Muspell general that ruled over our people by right of conquest. I doubt many would see a distinction."

 

"They should. They're still alive to make it."

 

Hrid cut Eliva off before she could retort. "All that aside, I still think this is a good idea."

 

"I don't," Leavatein said in a small voice.

 

Everyone turned to stare at her. Hrid seemed surprised. "Why ever not, Your Majesty?"

 

Leavatein shifted uncomfortably. "Eliva is correct. There is currently too much bad blood between our nations for us to...to _enjoy_ a Festival together. What's more," she added when Hrid seemed about to protest, "I have too much work to do here. Muspell isn't as stable as I would like it. I don't know if I can take the time to leave it, even for a moment."

 

Hrid seemed slightly disappointed at that, but it was gone before she could be certain. "I suppose that's true," he admitted. He reached into the satchel he'd had slung over one shoulder. "Then allow me to at least deliver this gift. It's from all three of us to you."

 

Into Leavatein's hands was placed a box wrapped in blue paper. She stared at it for a long moment, unsure what to do. Helbindi gazed at it for a moment, then looked up at Hrid. "The hell's this? Your Majesty," he added, almost as an afterthought.

  
"What do you mean, what is it?" Eliva snapped. "It's a Winter Festival gift from the royal family of Nifl. I would've thought you'd be a bit more grateful, brute."

 

Helbindi scowled. "It ain't like celebratin' was somethin' we could do here under Surtr, you prissy bitch."

 

Rage colored the woman's features, and Hrid valiantly stepped in before a fight could break out. "Open it," he told Leavatein.

 

She glanced at him, then carefully opened the wrapping paper and beheld a small, blue wooden box. There was a lever beside it, one that she could turn. She blinked. "What is it?"

 

"It's a music box," Hrid answered. "Here, you turn the lever and..."

 

Music began playing, a melodic lament that seemed to capture the wintery landscape of Nifl perfectly. Even Helbindi fell silent as the song played, and when it was done Leavatein looked at the other royal and blinked. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she said.

 

"Please," he said, smiling, "call me Hrid. And it was Ylgr who picked it out. I wasn't certain what sort of gift would be acceptable."

 

"This is..." Leavatein replied, looking back at the music box. There was little time to enjoy simple pleasures such as music and Festivals under her father's rule. His mandate of "survival of the fittest" had come to dominate every aspect of Muspell life, in preparation for his invasion of the rest of the Realms. "You may call me Leavatein, if you wish...You and your sisters."

 

Hrid smiled. "Thank you, Leavatein." Nodding at Eliva, he began moving toward the door. "We should be heading back, then. I'll let Ylgr know you enjoyed the gift."

 

Just before he crossed the threshold out of the reception area, Leavatein, still gazing at the music box, said, "The New Years' Festival!"

 

Everyone paused, turning their gazes toward her. Taking a deep breath, Leavatein said, "I will...attend the...New Years' Festival in Nifl, if that is alright..." She felt a rush of heat at those words, and part of her felt foolish for speaking them.

 

"That won't be possible," Hrid said, and Leavatein, to her surprise, felt a crushing disappointment. "This is because we are already planning on attending the Festival in Askr."

 

Leavatein looked at him. "Askr?" she echoed.

 

Hrid nodded. "We were already invited earlier by Princess Sharena." He smiled. "I'm certain she'll be pleased if you attend as well." He glanced at Helbindi. "I'm sure Ylgr will be glad to see you again."

 

Helbindi snarled. "That brat ain't got no reason to be happy to see me."

"I beg to differ, but as you will." Turning back to the Muspell Queen, he said, "Well, I'll look forward to it, then. Until then..." He bowed his head in farewell, and both he and his bodyguard swept out of the room.

 

Once they were gone, Helbindi looked at Leavatein. "You alright, Your Majesty?"

 

"I'm alright," she replied, looking back at the little blue box in her hands. "Just...I'm sure Laegjarn would've loved this, too..."

 

Helbindi frowned. "Yeah..." Shaking himself, he said, "Well, if there ain't anythin' else, I'll head back to the barracks." When Leavatein nodded, he left, leaving her alone in the room, staring at the little blue box.

 

She wasn't meant to be Queen of Muspell. She had no idea how to rule a country, let alone one so entrenched in brutality. Laegjarn would've known how to handle all this, the politics and the diplomacy and the strange warm feeling Hrid had inspired when he'd given her the music box.

 

She frowned, starting the song up again. And she stood there, listening to the song, for a long, lonely while.

 

 


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering the chapter number, I decided to write something a little more...steamy than usual. Don't worry, it's not explicit! At least, I don't think it is...

_Sweat glistened down his bare, toned torso as Alfonse gazed at him, breath caught in his throat. Never before had he seen such a handsome man, hair sticking to his neck, clumped with sweat. Once again, Laslow swung his blade, bearing down on his target with all the might years of training had granted him. Alfonse's eyes traced over his muscled arms, feeling sweat works its way down his own body. Gods, he had never seen a more attractive man. He had not expected--_

 

"What the hell, Nina?" Soleil exclaimed when she caught sight of what the other girl was writing. "That's my dad you're writing about!"

 

Nina felt her face flush, and not just from working on her latest story. "Sorry! I was just...I saw him and Alfonse talking yesterday after that battle, and it got me thinking..."

 

Soleil sighed. "Nina, I know you enjoy this, but why my _dad_? That's like if I wrote something about...about your mom with Sharena!"

 

Nina tried to picture that, came up blank. Probably for the best, she decided with a shudder. "Alright, I see your point."

 

"I'm glad," Soleil replied, and then reached over and ripped out the two pages she'd written so far.

 

"Hey!" Nina exclaimed. "Give that back!"

 

"Why? We just agreed that writing about my dad was weird."

 

"Yeah but I was going to cross out his name! Maybe replace it with Ike or Chrom or Marth..." Nina felt her face flush again.

 

Soleil only raised an eyebrow, glancing at the crumbled papers in her hand. "Well, you can start over I guess. I'm going to have Arvis burn these."

 

"Wait!" Nina started, but her friend was already hastening out of the room and down the hall. Frowning, Nina sat back down and glanced at her notebook. "Well, I guess there's nothing to it then." Grinning, Nina picked up her pen and started again...

 

_The training hall was silent, for which Alfonse was grateful. The recent battle had left him...stressed, and he needed some relief._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I have Revelations (not Conquest though) I've never once gotten Nina. I didn't really use Niles that often in my first playthrough since I already had Sakura and Takumi for archery, and in my second and third I actually did use Niles, but he died both times. Oh well.


	70. Chapter 70

Grima found him standing alone outside the castle, arms folded, as a god might look over his subjects. She could practically smell the power rolling off him, lesser though it might be when compared to _her_ might.

 

_A might you inherited_ , a voice whispered in her mind. Grima kept her face carefully idle as she snarled at her vessel to shut the hell up, ignoring the human female's teasing laugh in the far corner of her mind.

 

Duma did not look at her as Grima stepped to his side. They were on a parapet overlooking the fields that stretched around the Order's castle, and in the distance Grima noticed the Summoner and Sharena preparing another session at the summoning circle. The rest of the Order's worms wriggled about, though keeping their distance from the mighty dragons that stood over them.

 

"Is there a reason you are disturbing me?" Duma boomed.

 

Grima smiled at him. "I heard there was 'another' dragon god among us. I just had to see who this pretender to the title _was_."

 

"And now you have seen me," Duma retorted, still not looking at her, "and now you know I am no pretender. Begone!"

 

"And who are you to think you can command me?" Grima snapped, rounding on him. "I am the Fell Dragon! I devoured the world when you were naught but dust and ashes -- if even that! -- beneath Valm."

 

And still Duma did not look at her. "Do you think your boasts impressive?"

 

"Aren't they? What did you ever do? Fall to a farm boy and _die_. Even blessed by Naga the Falchion could not slay me."

 

"At least then I have died a good death, and a worthy one."

 

"And at least I'm remembered. Who, I wonder, even remembered the names of Duma and Mila when I first rose to destroy all before me?"

 

"To what end?"

 

That brought her up short. "What?"

 

"To _what end_?" Duma demanded, and now his gaze slid to hers. "Rigel was a cold and harsh land. I did what was necessary to let my people grow strong, to survive and thrive. You destroyed for the sake of the thing, not for any purpose."

 

Unbidden, a memory rose in Grima. A cold laboratory, a pathetic, frail old man ranting about the perfect lifeform, how nothing else in the world would matter once his _lifeform_ was complete. How all would _willingly_ submit themselves to it, to  _destruction_ , to make way for its progeny. For _perfection's_ sake.

 

"So what if I did?" Grima said. "At least _I_ survived. And nothing was left to oppose me! What else did I need?"

 

"What is the point of godhood," Duma replied, "if there is nothing left to believe in you?"

 

Power stirred deep within her, and she sensed her _true form_ demanded release, to lay waste to the wretched being that towered before her. "I am the Fell Dragon Grima! I need nothing else."

 

"Then you are a miserable, wretched thing, and worth less than the ground you walk."

For a long moment neither moved. Duma held Grima's gaze with his own, unblinking and unmoved by the fury in that gaze. A battle between their  _true forms_ would lay waste to the castle and possibly much of Askr, and the air was charged with tension.

 

Duma looked away from her. "Begone," he commanded.

 

With a scream that turned more than one head, Grima leapt at him.

 

What happened next none could say, for none were close enough to see it. Above on her pegasus, Cordelia insisted she saw Duma turn to face her, slamming a fist into the side of her head. From below Soren claimed differently, that Grima twisted around the blow and slammed Duma into the side of the parapet, shattering the stone and sending both plummeting to the ground. Dark energy swirled around both, and their dragon forms threatened to emerge. A fierce sound, like the harsh report of a thunderclap, boomed across the field. The Summoner abandoned the circle, shouting for Marth and Lucina and Alm and any other dragon slayers in the castle.

 

Duma threw Grima from his body before they hit the ground, and so both were quite a distance apart when they slammed into the fields outside the castle walls. Grima was the quickest to recover, charging for her foe as he clambered to his feet.

 

"You attack recklessly, like a child," Duma sneered as he avoided Grima's charge, grabbing her by the back of her cloak and using her momentum to throw her away from him. "Even the sickliest child could defeat you!"

 

Grima snarled again as she came to a halt some distance away. She was able to get her feet under her as she landed, and she slid only slightly before running for Duma once more. "Bold words from one who went mad and fell to a _mortal with a fancy stick_!" 

 

Duma prepared to avoid the blow, but Grima was prepared, ducking under his retaliation and knocking his feet from under him with her own. Duma tried to bring her down with him, but she darted away from his hands and delivered a harsh blow to his midsection with her knee. But Duma was able to hook his foot behind her knee before she could draw it back, and suddenly Grima found herself on the ground as Duma prepared to deliver an uppercut to her vessel's jaw.

 

As the blow landed, Grima was silently glad she could feel little of her vessel's pain.

 

"Enough of this foolishness," Duma commanded as Grima staggered back up. "It accomplishes nothing."

 

"I don't know," Grima shot back, smiling mockingly. "I'm having fun."

 

"Then play with the child manaketes," Duma retorted. "I have more important concerns."

 

"Like what, brooding?"

 

Duma glared at her. "Do not presume to understand the minds of your betters."

 

" _Betters_? You're dead and I reign in my world!"

 

"So you have stated. But I ask again, what did it _accomplish_?"

 

"My..." _Survival_ is what she nearly said, but she would not say such weakness before him. "...victory," she settled on instead, though it rang hollow to them both.

 

Duma huffed. "When you have a true answer, perhaps we will have a better fight."

 

At that point the Summoner finally reached them, Sharena, Fjorm, Marth, Tiki, Lucina, and several other Heroes in tow. All of them paused, eyes darting from Duma to Grima and back again. Only the Summoner was brave (or foolish) enough to step forward to the two enraged gods. "What the hell was all that about?"

"Apologies, Summoner," Duma said, turning to face him. Grima seethed at the deliberate action. "A minor dispute. Do not worry. It is finished now."

 

The Summoner glanced at the both of them and sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Anna will take the costs of fixing that tower-pillar-thing out of your hides later. For now, Duma, you stay in the east wing, Grima in the west. Neither of you are to leave for the rest of the day."

 

"You dare-?" Grima started.

 

Duma cut her off. "Very well, Summoner." Nodding to him, the Lord of Rigel left the gathering behind, his back to Grima the whole way to the castle. Grima glared at it fiercely, then turned back to the Summoner. "You had to interrupt us, didn't you, worm?"

 

"We're in the middle of a war," the Summoner retorted. "We don't have time for personal vendettas."

 

Grima's face twisted into one of pure hate, and even the Summoner was taken aback. Several Heroes moved in to protect him as Grima coldly said, "Were it not for our contract, Summoner, I would crush you here and now. Your presumption that _you_ can command _me_ in battle, and now this? You have no right in interfering in the affairs of gods."

 

"Maybe not," the Summoner allowed. "But whatever problem you and Duma have with each other can wait until after peace is restored in Askr. For now, turn that rage against Hel."

 

With a snarl of rage and a final glare at the Summoner, Grima left. The Summoner let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as Grima stalked toward the castle, wondering what the hell just happened.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually have Duma right now, largely on account of the fact I dropped and broke my phone a few weeks ago and won't be repaired for a while yet, but considering Duma and Grima's roles in their games and that it's implied Grima was created from a part of Duma, I really wanted to write something staring the both of them. Also because Grima and Duma have my favorite dragon designs in the whole franchise, so there's that.


	71. Chapter 71

The dark, forbidding realm of the dead sent shivers down Soleil's spine. Trees reached like spindly, skinless claws towards the violet sky, while all around her plants withered and something -- _were those_ bones? -- stuck out of the ground. The air blew, freezing and unforgiving, and Soleil flet as though she _did not belong here_. And glancing at the other Heroes, she knew she was not alone in this thought.

 

Not far away, the Summoner and the Prince bent their heads close together, speaking in hushed tones, while Sharena gathered a few Heroes together for a scouting mission. Everyone was on edge; this was not a place mortals should dare tread. Zelgius held Alondite close to his side while Lucina jumped at every small noise. Even Prince Leo and Princess Camilla were worried, their hands never straying far from their weapons.

 

Soleil swallowed. They were in enemy territory now; and unlike Muspell or Embla, there was no telling how or when the forces of Hel would strike. _Never thought I'd miss fighting in Muspell._

 

"You alright, Soleil?" The pink-haired girl turned as Nina approached, fingering her bow and arrows as she stepped close. 

 

"Of course!" Soleil replied, feigning cheerfulness. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 

"You forget where we are?" Nina asked, incredulous. "We're in Hel? The land of the dead? Ruled by a queen that wants all of Askr dead?"

 

"Oh. Right." Soleil glanced over. The Commander had now joined the Summoner and Alfonse as Sharena set off for her scouting mission, followed closely by Rebecca, Kaze, and Nailah. Soleil wondered if she should've volunteered; doing something felt better than standing here helping to set up a perimeter. The gateway into the realm yawned not far away, like a gaping, toothless maw, and Soleil felt uneasy looking at it.

 

"I hope they know what they're doing," Nina muttered, glancing at the three as well. "I don't know how to explain to my dad that I walked into the realm of the dead and got killed."

 

Soleil nodded; the Order had brought their more powerful members to Hel, leaving the bulk of their forces to supplement the Askran knights in defense of the realm. Niles and Laslow were among them. A sound decision, but...it made their force feel that much smaller.

 

"Have you written anything lately?" Soleil asked, indicating Nina's journal.

 

The other's face grew a faint pink. "Soleil!" the white-haired archer hissed. "Not among so many Heroes! They don't need to know that!"

 

Soleil thought of the war between the Morgans and the Kanas, and how Nina's journal had been both a casualty and a weapon during their feud. She was certain most, if not all, of the Order knew about it by now. "Sure," was her response.

 

Heavy footsteps indicated the arrival of Ike, followed closely by Soren and Titania. "Soleil," the large man said. "Nina. If you two aren't busy, we could use some eyes on the eastern perimeter."

 

"Right away!" Soleil said, saluting, while Nina only nodded, still dumbfounded by Soleil's brazen reference to her most secret and prized of possessions. _Would any of this be happening if the Summoner had pulled Ophelia?_

 

The eastern perimeter was pointedly _away_ from view of the gateway, so it was with some relief as the two settled onto a stump not far from the encampment and turned their eyes outward. The only other Hero they saw was Jaffar, who nodded toward them before disappearing into the shadows.

 

"This will go well," Soleil said after a long silence. "It has to. We've never lost before."

 

"We've never fought anything like this before," Nina pointed out.

 

"True. But did that stop our parents when they fought Valla? Or...or Severa's friends in her world?" Soleil shrugged. "We're Heroes. Doing stuff like this is part of the job."

 

Nina nodded. "True." She shivered. "But I'm certain Valla was much more welcoming than Hel."

Soleil couldn't argue with that. She had visited the Invisible Kingdom several times before her own summoning, restored to its former glory by its ruler Corrin. She was somewhat disappointed _that_ Corrin was not the one brought to this world. A certain charisma had always surrounded the ruler of Valla. And her father had sometimes told her of how even in ruins, Valla seemed beautiful.

 

"We said the same about Muspell," she pointed out. "And we won in the end, didn't we?"

 

Nina nodded. "Yeah." Then her nod became more vigorous. "Yeah. You're right. So long as we have the Summoner to lead us, I don't think we have anything to worry about."

 

"That's the spirit!" Soleil grinned. "So come on! How about you read me one of your... _stories_?"

 

The pink swiftly returned to Nina's face. "Soleil!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to write some Soleil, so I wrote some Soleil.


	72. Chapter 72

"So we're finally getting a use out of this old thing."

 

Alfonse glanced over at the Summoner for a moment, then slid his eyes back over to what Sharena insistently called the "Aether Resort." The castle of the Aether Keep, they'd discovered after clearing the debris in front of the entrance, was large and spacious. Spacious enough, Anna and the Summoner had agreed, to house a few buildings and other structures. And after some hard work and the manipulation of what Anna (for whatever reason) called "Affinity," a few buildings now filled the large keep.

 

The Summoner seemed proud of their work, and as Alfonse watched Sharena lead a few Heroes toward the Accessory Shop, the prince of Askr had to agree. It was nice to finally get a use out of the Keep.

 

"At least now we won't get our rears handed to us every week by Reinhardts and Lyns and Veronicas here!" the Summoner declared. "Make sure none of those three get into any fights here to prove me wrong," he added as an aside to Alfonse.

 

The prince shook his head, amused yet exasperated by his friend's antics. "At least the Heroes will be able to relax here. They deserve it after all we've been through."

 

The Summoner nodded in agreement. "Hey, do you think what Anna told us about the inn is true? That we can peak into the Heroes' dreams?"

 

Alfonse shuddered. "I hope not. I'd hate for anyone to get into my head."

 

The Summoner shrugged. "I just hope nobody dreams of work and me at the same time. I mean, come on. Can't they associate me with fun? I'm the fun one!"

 

"Of course, Summoner," Alfonse replied, which was his default response when he sensed his friend preparing for another tangent. And sure enough, the Summoner began ranting about how the only reason he'd be associated with work was because of Anna's insistence on working hard for the sake of the Order, which was ludicrous. Didn't he work hard enough during the campaign in Nifl and Muspell? He nearly froze his ass off only to nearly have it burned off at virtually the very next moment! What the hell? And another thing...

 

Alfonse tuned him out. He just hoped his father didn't find out how Anna had funded this whole thing. He really didn't want to explain wearing a bunny suit for the Spring Festival to King Gustav of all people...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do like Aether Resort, but the 3 orbs for R&R Affinity? No thanks IS.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started writing these as an attempt to get back into writing after having an on-off relationship with it for so long. Good or bad, it didn't matter to me as long as I wrote something. I've written so much that I sort of burned out a while back and stopped for a while, but the new Book III content had lit a fire under me and here I go again, this time on AO3 instead of tumblr.


End file.
